That's Just Super Quinn
by max-on-the-mind
Summary: So I'm an alien ex-soldier on Earth with super abilities. Naturally, secret crime fighting was the logical choice. But finding out my only mate is a pint-size diva, not so natural. I'm not sure who should be more surprised, me or her…when she finds out
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Migraines and blue grass

_I'm not from this planet. My home planet was pillaged by war. I fought in that war for years. It was a home worth fighting for, worth dying for. _

_My parents didn't see it the same way. They gave up when battles were lost and left our home to ruin._

_They took me with them, as a forced passenger, while they searched the galaxy for a new safe world. _

_Now our world is no longer ours. _

_We can never go back. _

_On Earth, we hide in plain sight. We live stolen lives with stolen names._

_They want me to forget the past, but how can I when every day I'm reminded that I don't belong here._

"Quinn Fabray! For the last time, TAKE. OFF. THOSE. SUNGLASSES."The teacher looks pissed. She has this vein that pops out of her forehead that makes her look like she might explode in a very messy way. I can see the thing pulsing and it's like a ticking bomb.

I think I might be giving her a headache but I can guarantee that it's nowhere near as bad as mine. So I sit back and make no attempt to comply. After all, why would I take off the only things that are preventing my migraine from tearing my skull apart from the inside? My sunglasses are keeping me somewhat sane, as I sit in this pointless class, half listening to this incompetent teacher who really needs to learn how to pick her battles.

While yelling at me, the smartest person in the school I might add, some of my less bright classmates are playing Buckaroo with a sleeping Karofsky, sexting very unsubtly, eating McDonalds and just generally taking advantage of the distracted teacher, gossiping loudly that I'm hung-over and trying to guess where I was last night.

"I have a headache, Miss Swarbrick. So I'm going keep them on. Don't mind me, please continue." I reply coolly. If my brain wasn't currently pressing against the backs of my eye sockets so insistently, I probably would have put on a warming, regretful smile and charmed my way out of this. As it was, I was straining to remain civil. Ironically if I wasn't wearing sunglasses the teacher probably would have seen the warning in my eyes and dropped the subject.

Instead she drew her shoulders straight, reeling at my slightly condescending tone. She sucked in a short breath, I could see it coming. "Detention, Miss Fabray!" she snapped as she marched round her desk to scribble on a pink strip of paper. "For your disobedience, blatant disrespect for school rules that apply to everyone including you, your attitude," she straightened ripping off the pink slip from the pad. She strode down the aisle to my desk and slammed her hand and the slip onto the hard wood. I winced as the sound reverberated round my already throbbing head, "and for being HUNG-OVER in my classroom!"

"What!" I yelled standing abruptly and immediately regretting the action as my head protested violently. I felt dizzy and swayed slightly; this probably wasn't helping my case. "I'm not hung-over, I have a migraine."

"That's not what I'm hearing from your classmates." She gestured around the room at the now quiet, stunned students.

_I guess you're not as oblivious as I gave you credit for._

"WHAT!" she yelled in my face. _Oops I may have said that out loud. _

"Principle's office now, Fabray. Get out of my classroom!" I feel so relieved to be able to leave the sweaty, noisy, brightly sunlit room and escape to the peaceful hallway, I almost wanted to hug her, almost.

I swiftly gathered my things and walked out the classroom feeling the eyes of the entire class on my back.

Stepping out to the cool, quiet hallway I took some steadying breaths. I relished the feeling of some of the pressure from my head starting fade slightly. Still feeling dizzy though, I leaned against some lockers, rested my head on the cool metal and closed my eyes. _This is better. _

Soft padding of footsteps down the hallway interrupted me from my bliss. The footsteps were short and slightly hurried definitely female, and probably a short female at that. The sound approached quickly, I kept my eyes closed and willed myself to blend into the lockers. I wish I had that power. _Keep walking. Just ignore me. Please don't talk to me. _

"Are you okay?" _Damn it. _

"I'm fine." I grit out not bothering to open my eyes. I just want this girl to believe my obvious lie and leave me be.

"I don't believe you. You are, after all, propped up against a locker in a deserted hallway during class, looking rather pale like you might pass out at any minute. You look far from the definition of fine so it would be remiss of me to walk by and not enquire upon the status of your health. Perhaps I could escort you to the school nurse, though I suspect any serious illnesses are beyond her expertise so I hope for your sake your ailment is not life threatening, she may be useful in allowing you to…lie down…and maybe calling your parents-"

I had reached out sloppily with one hand and eventually found the girl's head (she is shorter than I anticipated). I think I'm trying to find an off switch as I drag my hand down her face to the fast moving thing under her nose that is making a lot of sound. Though my hand is more in her mouth than covering it, it seems to do the trick of halting any further noise from the small person.

"Ssshhh, no more talking. Let's just be nice and quiet now." I can feel the confusion on her face. Her mouth opens to protest, and frankly I'm surprised she hasn't batted my hand away from her face yet. Taking advantage of her oversight, I clamp my hand more firmly over her face. "No, just no. My head hurts and you…you are very loud and…grating." I hear and feel a huff of air against my hand. "I appreciate your concern, but you can go now, _please_." I hadn't meant to sound so desperate as I said please, but it seemed to soften the hardened features on the girl's face. I felt a soft hand take mine and guide it away from her face but she didn't let go. Instead I felt her thumb caress my wrist soothingly. I was surprised to notice tingles travelling up my arm at the soft touch, then a wave of warmth follows the same path starting from the tips of my fingers travelling up my arm. The warmth is concentrated in the spot where her thumb is grazing gentle circles on my skin. Still not quite able to open my eyes or move my head, I heard some rustling then felt something being placed in my hand. Suddenly the caress on my wrist was gone and I immediately missed it, the warmth in my arm starts to fade.

"I hope you feel better soon, Quinn." Her voice was soft and gentle, and then her feet were padding away down the corridor.

_She knows me? _Confused that I hadn't recognised her voice I pry my eyes open to look down. A small bottle of water and some aspirin were sitting in my hand. I stared at the sweet gesture for a moment then lifted my head to look down the corridor to glimpse the retreating figure, but all I saw was a flash of long silky brown hair and argyle as she disappeared around the corner.

I frowned slightly, for some reason I felt like I had missed a significant moment of some kind. Shaking off the thought and my arm to dispel the lingering tingles, I figured I better head to the principles office.

* * *

><p>Principle Figgins' office was tense and silent as the three of us, including Miss Swarbrick, sat waiting for my parents to arrive. This wasn't the first time I had been sent to Mr Figgins, unfortunately it had happened a lot in the past few weeks. Usually I just kept my head down in class and ploughed through the work, teachers would instinctively give me triple the work load of the other students because they knew I would finish it all before the others had even gotten the right books out if they didn't.<p>

I was usually polite and charming and so the teachers didn't normally mind grading the extra assignments I requested. My arrogance is a new development. Lately my migraines are becoming more frequent and that in combination with being 1) irritable because of the pain, 2) bored because I am a genius surrounded by humans that could never hope to match my intelligence and 3) restless because my over active muscles were practically humming under my skin, desperate for a proper work out, all added up to a bad attitude and frequent trips to detention and eventually here and the call to the parents.

The office door opened with a flourish and Judy Fabray waltzed spectacularly into the room followed by the formidable form of my father Russell Fabray. They certainly liked to make an entrance. Well dressed, both with designer sunglasses attached to their faces you would think they just arrived at an awards ceremony, they were even sporting beaming smiles like this was the best news they had heard all day. Let the show begin.

"Quinnie sweetie, what is all this?" She said in her best motherly tone. Not letting anyone answer she grasped my jaw turning my head directly towards her, stroking my hair with her other hand. "Oh honey you look positively awful, doesn't she darling?" she was obviously asking my father but before he could reply she continued "Well first things first. Russell shut the blinds will you darling?" she commanded with a wave of her hand.

"Yes dear" were the first words out of my father's mouth. He moved swiftly round the room closing the blinds dimming the light in the room significantly. Suddenly all the tension in my body I didn't know I was holding drained away, I sighed in relief.

"There that's better isn't it poppet?" she said while caressing my cheek. I nod thankfully. Finally removing my sunglasses and running my hands over my tired eyes. They too removed their glasses and stood flanking my chair both placing protective hands on my shoulders. I was surprised by how comforted I was by that action.

"Now what seems to be the problem?" her voice was now stern but it wasn't directed at me. Mr Figgins and Miss Swarbrick, who was standing behind him previously glaring daggers at me, had hardly moved since my parent's entrance. The sight of Mr and Mrs Fabray standing over their daughter must have been an intimidating sight because they both swallowed visibly before Principle Figgins cleared his throat.

"Mr and Mrs Fabray," he acknowledged formally with a nod "please why don't you have a seat?"

"We are quite fine here thank you." My mother said abruptly.

"Yes…well, okay…to the point. We are concerned that Quinn has been in quite a lot of trouble lately, this is the third time she has been to my office this week and its only Tuesday." I try hard to suppress my smile but the comically dramatic look on his face as he leans across the table to glare at me tickles me.

"She may not be the most troublesome student at this school, but I've been seeing far too much of her in here for relatively minor offences…" he trails off as he turns to glare at Miss Swarbrick pointedly as she has been sending me in here practically every lesson, sometimes just for rolling my eyes at her. She huffs with her hands on her hips.

"It's her attitude!" Miss Swarbrick cuts in "She has been arrogant and disobedient and today I caught her hung-over in my classroom!" her voice had been rising in pitch until it was shrill. My head thrummed painfully at the unwelcome noise. I felt my mother's hand caress my head instinctively, it helped.

"Hung-over you say?" my mother's voice was considerably softer in comparison "You have proof of this? A blood or breath test perhaps? Could you smell alcohol on her?"

"Well no…I-"

"Then how can you be so sure it was a hang-over?"

"She…well she refused to take her sunglasses off which are against school policy, she was practically swaying as she stood up-"

"So she was abnormally sensitive to light and dizzy? Did she complain of head pain?"

"Well she may have mentioned it, but that is clearly typical of a hang-"

"Migraine, wouldn't you say darling?" my mother filled in turning to her husband.

"Indeed" was the only thing he responded with. Judy reached into her purse and pulled out a slip of paper.

"A note from the doctor." She explained. It was forged I noted, I've never been to a doctor on this planet. "Poor Quinnie here has been suffering terrible migraines of late. Makes her a bit grumpy as you can probably imagine. She's normally such a sweet girl."

Miss Swarbrick was visibly flustered.

"If that will be all, Quinn why don't you apologize to your teacher and we will be heading on our way."

"I'm afraid, Mrs Fabray, that there have been numerous complaints from other teachers and I think we should discuss the situation in more detail." Mr Figgins stated before leaning down to speak into the intercom to his receptionist, "Could you send the other teachers in now please."

We all turned and saw five of my teachers file into the room.

"Well this is quite a crowd isn't it Quinn?" My mother was giving me a pointed look and I knew I would be in a lot of trouble later for drawing in this much attention.

* * *

><p>An hour later we got home. After a discussion on varying topics, it was decided that I would be permitted to wear sunglasses pre or during a migraine. My 'punishment' as such, for my behaviour was to tutor other students during the day while only attending key classes because they all agreed that me being in every lesson was unnecessary as I was way ahead of the work load.<p>

There were many suggestions that I should be moved up several grades and graduate early. After some warning looks towards me from my parents, my mother quickly batted their suggestions away claiming that they would rather I get the full high school social experience. This meant that they just wanted me to appear as normal as possible.

I shrug off my bag as I walk through the front door and head to the basement, my safe haven.

"Quinn." I roll my eyes but keep walking "We need to talk about this." My father's voice is firm but I'm in no mood to listen.

"Can we talk about it later dad? I know what you're going to say, but I really just want to be left alone right now, I'm exhausted."

"Then why don't you go to bed instead of that basement? What are you working on down there anyway?" I can feel him trying to peer over my shoulder as I open the basement door after a discrete probe scanned me for identification and the distinct sound of heavy metal unlocking was heard. I never let my parents down there; the door was activated by my own unique DNA so I knew they couldn't go snooping. It was agreed that if I was to live with them and play the doting daughter that I would have a place in the house to call my own, besides my bedroom. They agreed to the terms when I insisted that I would use the space to create things that would make our lives easier on Earth.

"Just some projects dad, you will know later when I'm finished."

"Quinnie!" my mother's voice carries down the hallway as she approached us. "If I have to explain to the neighbours again why a sonic shock wave emitted from our house broke their 1st floor windows or why our lawn looks decidedly more blue then green, I will not be happy. And this kind of thing is precisely what we need to discuss."

"And we will mum, but later _please._ I promise what I'm working on is low key… And by the way the blue grass was from a very minor radiation leak which wouldn't have happened if you hadn't insisted on putting spotlights under the coffee table, as per your spur of the moment interior design inspiration, and turning the electricity off to do so without warning me causing containment loss of one of my more…delicate projects before I could connect it to an alternate power supply. And I already apologized for the sonic shock wave, it was an accident…I got spaghetti sauce on a control panel, it won't happen again because I don't take any food down there anymore. Right now I'm really not feeling up to another lecture, so can we talk about today later?"

"Fine. Your dinners will be at 6 and 9pm sharp." Her tone is clipped but then softens as she takes in my tired features. "You need to eat more, sweetie, you look like you've barely had three meals today, it won't be helping your condition."

It wasn't but finding quiet spots to eat as often as I needed in a high school where I would probably be considered bulimic for scoffing down several meals in six hours everyday and not gaining a pound, was getting difficult. My previous favourite spot was the auditorium but apparently a new Glee club had been formed and they were annoyingly dedicated to their rehearsal time.

It was just another reason why I really didn't want to be putting up this charade of going to high school like a normal human teenager, I'm sure I could pass for eighteen if they let me modify the IDs. However, my parents liked to think about it as the ultimate social challenge, after all _everyone_ in high school is just trying to fit in. If I could fit in to high school where the standards for accepted social protocol were so much higher than out in the real world, then I could fit in anywhere.

The thing is, I am actually am fitting in, surprisingly well. From what I've gathered success in high school is measured by levels of 'coolness', and because I'm apparently 'hot', rich, incredibly smart and athletic, without trying I already had a head start. But to top it off, because I really didn't care about any of that stuff and shrugged off any superficial friends that latched on to me, I was somehow cooler, mysterious and attractively unobtainable. High school was weird.

"I know mum, I can manage." I shrug off her concern and head into the dim light of the basement. I hear the pressurised seal of the door behind me as it locks into place. My movement triggers the lights as I descend the stairs and the room below is bathed in a low soothing ambiance of soft blue lighting. Gentle ripples of water are reflected on the white walls and the gentle bird song from home echoes through the room. It's all simulated but it comforts me and reminds me of home.

My experiments of varying sizes and constructs, line the borders of the room. In the centre is a large crescent shaped, white table and I slide into the office chair and scoot myself over to sit at the heart of the table. I tap the surface of the table and it lights up with various screens. Gracefully the screens begin to rise from horizontal 2D images to near vertical 3D projections. I scan through the screens with casual flicks of my hand and bring up my latest project. The screens melt away and I'm left with a life size holographic projection of my new design, lying across the length of the table.

It's a suit. Or rather, a second skin. I already have one that looks similar, but this one has a unique difference. This suit has a special power that I don't possess; it can manipulate the air around it. Air is, after all, just gas molecules circulating. The suit can control and coordinate those molecules like a beautiful symphony. When called for, it can create a cushion of air and that cushion can be accelerated, decelerated, steered as long as it is in contact with the suit. The theory is that I should be able to fly with this suit, or at least give the illusion of flight as I float on top of a cushion of air. But it may not stop there, the possibilities are endless, and I feel giddy with ideas that I could create force fields with this technology and use them either in defensive or offensive ways.

Of course this is all just theory until I can test my suit. Migraine be damned, I'm just too excited to wait to work on my design.

I reach into the projection and pull out the 'nervous system' for lack of a better term. The glimmering silver pathways with impulses and synapses will connect me with the suit and give me control with mere thought and the subtlest of movements. I start tinkering, always wary of the time and the wrath of my mother if I'm late to any of our dinners.

It's late, maybe 1am and I'm lying restless in bed. I've eaten and napped and managed dispel the worst of the migraine, despite the predictable lecture from my parents earlier. My muscles are still humming under my skin and I wonder how my parents can stand it, I already get more exercise than they do but I still want more, need more. I look out my bedroom window. It's a warm spring night and I've left the window open, a gentle breeze is dancing with the curtains and I can see the stars in the velvety black sky. _That's it, I'm out of here._

I'm up and donning my older suit in no time. It moulds to my skin and is as easy to move in as if I was naked. I smooth down my hair and pull on the hood which covers my whole face except for a couple of rectangle shapes that allow me to see but keep my eyes hidden behind material that has the effect of one way glass.

The suit is dark green but has subtle shimmers of gold if caught in the right light. The gold traces the outlines of my muscles fibres and is best seen whenever I flex my muscles. It's all for show but I've found the effects can be quite intimidating, which is exactly what I want.

With a graceful leap I'm out the window and on the roof, perched on the edge like a cat, deciding where to go. I'm looking for action, so I figure where better than the more shady side of town. I crouch low coiled and ready, with a sudden burst of energy I bound off the roof into the night. I'm surprised by how high I leap and I feel as though I could touch the stars. The air is rushing past my face and I feel so beautifully free. I feel gravity get a hold of me as the energy from my leap dissipates and I start falling to the earth. I seek out my landing spot in a tree a block away; I brace my body for the impact. The outer branches whip past me and I absorb as much as the impact as I can with my body as I land on a firm branch. As testament to my efforts the branch doesn't so much as wobble or groan on my landing. I grin to myself, and prepare for another leap when an open window below me catches my eye.

I have no idea what, but something compels me to get a closer look. On my home planet I survived my trusting my instincts so I learned just to follow them without much question. I gracefully scale down to the lower branches of this great tree. Hidden by the night and the protection of the branches I cautiously peer in the room. My enhanced eyesight serves me well as I easily make out objects in the room.

I don't know what I was expecting to find, someone in danger, a psycho-killer's lair or a drug work shop perhaps; but it definitely wasn't a sweetly yellow and pink painted bedroom where everything looked still and quiet, other than a figure below the covers quietly breathing in sleep. _Er…this is weird. And now I feel kind of pervy. What am I doing here? I should leave and pretend I didn't become a perv on my night out to fight crime and… other perverts._

Shaking my head I make to leave, when a sigh within the room grabs my attention, the figure has shifted slightly but is curled away from the window. Long brunette locks are splayed across the pillow, they look vaguely familiar but I can't place where. The figure sighs again and settles more comfortably into the bed, I feel my heart swell at the sight. I can't explain why and it scares me. I tear myself away and scale the branches again.

I continue my journey in leaps and bounds to the down town district of Lima. I figure beating up criminals will help me forget my slight detour tonight.

I only have to wait a matter of minutes until I pick up trouble. I hop across roof tops until I see a couple of men yelling angrily at (what I assume is) an exotic dancer near the back entrance to a strip club.

"Come on, Yasmin we're practically regulars. And you're holding out on us? I don't think your boss would be too happy to hear about that." The taller man sneered at the woman while staking ever closer to her.

"Yeah well I don't think Joey would be too happy to hear about you guys breaking the rules either. I did you guys a favour by not letting him know. So why don't you do me a favour and go home." The woman countered standing her ground. I was impressed by how she was handling it so I decided to sit and see how it played out.

"What rules did I break huh, Yasmin?" He sidled up close to her and whispered like a lover, "I could tell you enjoyed it, all the attention me and Ricky were giving you. So how about you give _us_ a little attention?"

The woman swatted away his hands when he got a little too grabby, his gaze instantly hardened. "Like I wanted your grubby paws all over me. And you know what you're asking me isn't part of my job so I don't owe you jack."

"Yeah well I've got a fucking job for you!" He yelled while undoing his pants. _Well crap_. "At this point I'm still willing to let you keep our money from earlier if you do this right now for me and Ricky, otherwise we're gonna take what we want from you anyway and our money. Your choice, honey." The two men started backing her into a corner.

"LIKE HELL!" she yelled trying to push through them, but they both grabbed her and pushed her to the floor.

"Wrong choice, sweetie!" I chose this moment to jump down from my perch.

Now this would be the point where most superheroes you read about in comics would make some witty retort or some cliché redundant phrase like "Let her go". I'm more of a silent, let-actions-speak-louder-than-words superhero, so I just kick the crap out of them.

I grab them both by the backs of their collars and fling them backwards. They hit the ground hard and look shocked when they see me, understandably, but to their credit they both get over it quickly and charge at me. _Oh good, this will be fun. _I make it look as if I'm turning to run and they give chase, but I run up the wall in front of me and flip over their heads. Landing behind them, I use their forward momentum to slam them into the wall. Mr Grabby-hands turns quickly, shaking off his daze, and tries a swing at me, I lean back easily and follow it into a back flip, catching him under the chin with my foot as I do. He crumples to the floor. Meanwhile Ricky is waiting for his opening. He goes for a grab; I catch him inside his arms and force them out while I bring a knee up to his chest with great force. He doubles over and I bring my elbow down onto the back of his head. He falls to the ground face first, out cold.

I survey the unconscious bodies on the ground momentarily and can't help feel a little disappointment that there wasn't more fight in them. But I do feel a little more relaxed than I did earlier and a lot less twitchy. I turn back to the woman, who is still on the ground looking at me like I'm a crazy person. I slowly approach so I don't startle her and offer her my hand to help her stand. She looks at it, then me, her eyes narrow like she is assessing me, but I just keep holding out my hand willing her to see that I'm sincere. She finally cocks her head as she takes me in, her eyes soften slightly and she reaches for my hand. I pull her up gently; she is about as tall as me in her heels. She is trying to look me in the eyes, but I know all she can see is a weak reflection of herself.

Her expression changes again and she looks slightly bemused.

"Are you like a crazy person?" she asks half joking.

_Probably. _I shrug as a way of answer, it's the most honest thing I can do.

"Good answer." She nods, surveying the scene. She's shaking her head like she can't quite believe what's she is seeing but there is a faint smile there, I hand her her discarded purse. "So I'm gonna go now...?" she says hesitantly, like she is not sure what the protocol is after being saved from rape by a girl in a skin tight suit. I just nod assuredly and turn to leave.

"Uh thanks by the way." She adds quickly and I look back to her. She gestures meekly around her, "For…you know…Thank you." She says sincerely, I nod again and disappear into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Is it hot in here? No it's just me

The next day I'm sitting in the library serving out my punishment. This morning I was given a list of students that teachers had suggested would benefit from tutoring. So far the day had gone like this:

(1st period) Brittany S. Peirce:

"Okay Brittany can you remember where the Declaration of Independence was signed?"

"At the bottom." She said with a proud grin.

(2nd period) Finn Hudson:

"Finn, shall we move on to General Calculus?"

"Who's that? Some kind of Roman warrior?"

(3rd period) Noah Puckerman:

"So what is 2k + k?"

"I know this! It's 3000! I know money, babe."

(4th period) Jacob Ben Israel:

"…"

"So how long do we have to do this until I can get inside your pants?"

Fifth period rolls around and I'm wondering if the teachers share jokes in the staff room about the hilariously idiotic comments students come out with. _Scratch that, I know they do._ But I'm also wondering if they are smirking gleefully at their cunning evil plan to pass off the worst ones on to me. It is brilliant punishment I have to admit. Either I actually improve these student's grades or the teachers get their revenge with my suffering or both. So it's win-win for them.

I stare down at the name of the last person on my list for today 'Rachel Berry', I don't have high expectations, not after the day I've had. A moment later a folder is placed down beside me and I look up to see a petite brunette shuffle nervously into the chair. She adjusts her skirt slightly then looks up at me with a big showy smile and extends her arm straight out towards me, "Hi. I'm Rachel Berry." The formality of the gesture catches me slightly off guard, but she seems a little nervous for some reason, so I act on instinct and return a warm smile. "Quinn Fabray" I say as I take her hand. Familiar tingles race into my hand immediately on contact and I gasp and almost drop hers due to shock.

"I know," is all she says with a small smile and a shy glance. If she noticed my gasp she didn't react to it, I casually but hastily remove my hand from hers. I drop it to my side and attempt to subtly shake it out. My hand is gradually heating up, the warmth seeping up my arm. I'm getting a sense of déjà vu and I'm trying to remember where I felt it before.

"How are you feeling today, Quinn?" she breaks me out of my thoughts and I look at her puzzled for a moment, "Yesterday, in the hallway? You had a headache? Did the aspirin help?" Suddenly it all clicks.

"Oh that was you! Sorry I didn't… Yes I'm feeling much better thanks. And thanks for the aspirin it made a huge difference." Okay that was a lie, aspirin doesn't affect my alien physiology but I really did appreciate the gesture. She beams at me. My arm pulses with heat. _Maybe I'm having a bad reaction to her hand cream or something. Everything here on Earth is alien to me after all. _

I think back to yesterday's encounter and I cringe inwardly.

"Sorry about my behaviour yesterday." I vaguely gesture to her face then think better of it and quickly drop my hand and clear my throat. I'm embarrassed at the thought that I had my hand all over her face and in her mouth, practically fondling her face, while insulting her. "Migraines make me a little… off." I finish lamely and mentally smack myself.

"It's quite alright, Quinn. It's understandable but perhaps next time you could make a more…visual signal for me to be quiet rather than…well…you know." _Is she blushing?_ "Anyways I'm glad you're feeling better." I smile at her sweetness.

"Thank you. And I promise to respect your personal space and not…face grope you again." _That's definitely a blush; it's a much darker shade. _Feeling rather awkward I clear my throat again.

"So it says here you're having trouble with physics?"

She looks as though she is snapping herself out of something. "Uh… yes. Physics." She takes a deep breath, "Just when I think I comprehend it and regurgitate the stuff the teacher tells me into my exams, it turns out I have no clue what I'm talking about. I don't mind so much because I know I won't be using this stuff in my future career on Broadway, however, it is starting to affecting my GPA average which may prevent me getting into Julliard, and thus achieving my dreams of stardom."

I blink a few times and I'm surprised I caught all that considering the speed her mouth was moving, but once it all processes, I can't help but smile.

"Well I'm your girl…I mean, you're with the right person…I mean, you've come to the right person. Physics happens to be my specialty." _Uh, Quinn? ...You know that four digit IQ you usually have? Where did it go? _

Half an hour later and we have revised heat conduction and convection. I can't help but notice the irony of the topic since over the past half hour the heat from my arm has burned a path over my shoulder, head, chest, legs, until my whole body is pulsing with it. I'm starting to squirm in my seat, if I don't get out of here soon I'm going to tear out of my skin. I stumbled my way through an explanation of heat energy causing excitation of vibrating ions in close proximity to one another. I'm distracted and this topic isn't helping. "The hotter the…um…metal, the more kinetic energy these…er… vibrations have."

"So the kinetic energy is transferred along by free electrons that collide with other ions?" Rachel's brow is scrunched in an adorable way and she looks like she is really trying to follow it. Lucky for me she is more interested in finally cracking physics then my constant shifting and subtle tugging at my clothes.

"Yes exactly."

"So that's how heat energy gets transferred from one ion to another…" she trails off, speaking more to herself than to me. She is biting her pen as she concentrates on the text book in front of her, running the cap along her lip. Another wave radiates through me. I lick my lips and swallow thickly, my mouth is parched.

"Yeah…everything gets hotter…much hotter…Is it hot in here?" I don't even know what I'm saying at this point, and I'm hoping she's not really listening. I grab some papers and begin fanning myself, the temporary relief is blissful. I close my eyes and concentrate on the moving air breezing over my face.

"I think I get it," she croaks finally. I open my eyes to see her still staring intently at her book, her brow only marginally less furrowed.

"You think? Or you _know?_"

"I _know _that heat causes atoms to become excited and so they vibrate more, causing the atoms next to each other to become just as excited so the vibration increases and continues along till everything is excited and…hot." My chest is heaving against suffocating heat. "You look hot."

"What?" I snap my eyes to her again (when they closed again, I don't know) and she is staring back at me with a strange expression.

"I mean um…you look… Are you okay?" _Far from it._

"Yeah…no…I don't know. I think I'm running a fever or something." She looks concerned and she leans closer to me reaching a hand to my forehead.

"Jesus!" she whips her hand back, as though scolded. "Quinn," she hesitantly reaches for me again and haltingly presses her hand against my skin like you would approach submerging yourself in a hot bath. She adapts and finally her hand is flush against my forehead.

My moan is instantaneous. I had no hope of suppressing it. Her skin is so blissfully cool against mine I unabashedly lean into the touch. "Quinn you're _burning_." She sounds in awe as she says it. She runs her hand slowly down the side of my face. I sigh in contentment and close my eyes. The hand continues down until it's cupping the side of my neck. I nuzzle into the touch.

"Mmmm, that feels so nice." I practically sigh out. The only concrete thought in my head is that I want her deliciously cool hands all over me. _Wait…What?_

I open my eyes to see two pools of chocolate brown staring back at me.

"Whoa." She breathes out. I feel her cool breath against my face, she is so close. My chest is still heaving. _Her _chest is heaving but I don't know why. I catch the scent of something delicious and inviting, it's kind of sweet. I'm only vaguely aware that I'm leaning even closer to this wonderfully cool body. I have no idea what's going to happen when I get there, I'm going on instinct again, but my hazy brain thinks it's going to be a good thing. The gap is shortening.

The bell rings.

I have no idea what a heart attack feels like, but I gather it is a very unpleasant and scary experience. I could hazard a guess that it's not too dissimilar to what I'm feeling at this very moment. I rocket back in my chair, but at least have the presence of mind to stop my super strength from propelling me through the wall behind me.

She does the same. (The rocketing back in her chair part, not the, trying not to significantly damage the structural integrity of the wall behind her part. I assume). We are both standing up and hastily gathering our things together in an instant.

I wouldn't have thought it possible considering my already higher than average body temperature and flushed appearance, but I mange to blush, _hard._

"So same time on-"

"Monday," she finishes for me, looking everywhere but at me.

"You've done really well today. Good pro-"

"Progress, yeah I thought so," she clears her throat. "You should probably go see the-"

"Nurse, yeah thanks, I will," _won't. _

"So-"

"See ya."

"Yeah, see ya. Bye."

We both round the table, heading to our respective exists only to nearly bump into each other on the way.

"Sorry, I'm going-" I gesture to the door behind her.

"Yeah, I'm going-" She says almost at the same time gesturing behind me.

"Kay." I nod, accidently meeting her eyes.

"Kay." She nods back, a little breathlessly.

We manoeuvre around each other, trying not to let our bodies touch in the relatively small space. Our eyes flicker back and forth to one another. This is an excruciatingly long moment for reasons I cannot fathom. We clear each other only to turn back one last time.

"Bye."

"Bye."

I slump back against the door once I get to the other it and let out a long breath. _What the hell? _

* * *

><p>"Mum! Dad!" I yell as I shut the front door.<p>

"Hi sweetie, how was your- Oh my goodness!" she reels back slightly as she rounds a corner into the hallway. "Russell!" she yells behind her without taking her shocked eyes off me.

"What's the matter darling- Oh!" he has the exact same reaction as my mother, if it wasn't for my current predicament, I would find it amusing. "Quinn, sweetie. You're…steaming."

Steaming? Yes I was. The heat I was experiencing in fifth period didn't go away. Not only did it not go away, it actually got worse.

I thought it was a small blessing when a summer storm erupted above me on my walk home. The torrential down pour felt so refreshing I wanted to dance in it all evening. That was until I noticed the water droplets were rapidly evaporating off my heated skin as soon as they touched. The resulting steam was becoming increasingly noticeable so I decided to run the rest of the way home.

"Really? I thought someone was following me around with hot kettles." Maybe this wasn't the time for sarcasm but stating the obvious wasn't helping my panicked state.

They were both still gawping at me, I was becoming exasperated. "You may have noticed that this doesn't happen to me everyday, and although I have had marginally more time to process my predicament it doesn't change the fact that I may need help," still no movement from either of my parents. "Help me!"

"Right, er… Russell, go run an ice bath with all the ice from the freezer then run out to get some more will you?" my mother says, finally snapping into action and grabbing my father's attention. He nods and runs with super speed round the house getting things prepared.

My mother slowly approaches me; careful not to touch me she slides my school bag off my shoulder. "When did this-"

"Fifth period."

"Oh."

"The steam is new. Rain outside."

"How…how are you feeling?" she asks hesitantly.

"Like I'm slowly spontaneously combusting, but otherwise okay."

"Good, good."

"Good?" I ask incredulously.

"All ready," my father enters again. "I'll just head to the store." My parents share a strange look as he walks out; they seem to be silently communicating something. Unfortunately I'm not yet versed in eye language but I got the gist that they know something I don't.

"Mum, do you know what's happening to me?" she is leading me to the bathroom on the second floor.

"I'm not sure," she can't seem to meet my eyes. I want to question her further but my attention is drawn to the bath tub filling with cold water, heaving with so much ice it looks like a bird's eye view of the North Pole. I stare at it apprehensively but I know it needs to be done.

"Quickly now, we have to bring down your core temperature," I grimace but slip off my shoes ready to jump in fully clothed. "Clothes off, we need to make this process as fast as possible." I know it's true; the clothes will only slow the heat conducting away from my body, by acting as a barrier between the extreme temperature differences. _Here's a physics lesson for you, Rachel._

One more uncomfortable pulse of heat, from either embarrassment or…something, and I'm stripping off my clothes and dropping myself into the frigid bath.

You know that feeling when someone drops an ice cube down the back of your shirt unexpectedly? Or when you're wading out in a cold sea and a wave comes and laps at your stomach for the first time? Or when you run your freezing cold hands under a hot tap? Well imagine all those sensations all over your body at the same time, times ten. Struggling with the times ten bit? So was I.

I screeched. I yelped. I swore in my native tongue, something equivalent to _"Fuuuuuckkkkk!"_ My mother may have reprimanded me but probably sympathised to some degree or was incapacitated due to the blast of hissing, fizzing steam that assaulted her full in the face, I can't be sure. Instantly the bathroom was turned into a steam room, and a quarter of the water from the bath had gone.

I'm not sure how long I laid there stunned, motionless, unable to move, unable to think or breathe. I was burning from heat and ice, my senses were overloaded until I thought I couldn't feel anything.

A knock at the door announced my father's presence. My mother moved to the doorway. I had forgotten she was still in here. Bag after bag of ice were lined up beside the bath tub. And so hours, (what seemed like hours), would pass like this. Every time I became vaguely accustomed to the water my mother would check the temperature, finding the water very warm, then preceded to drain the water then refill with cold and dump another large bag of ice on top of me.

We were almost out of ice when a small miracle happened, I started to tremble. Then shiver, and then shake uncontrollably. My hands and feet were a purply/blue colour and I imagine my face wasn't too dissimilar.

"How are you feeling, honey?" My mother asks sweetly.

"F-ffff-fr-freee-ezing."

"Wonderful! We will leave it another half hour then get you out,"

"Www-what!"

"We need to be sure your body has settled down fully or you might relapse."

"Www-whe-en I g-g get out-ttt of this t-ttt-tu-tu tub-b we nnnn-need to have a t-ttt-talk." I think the firmness I intended to portray may have lost some effectiveness somewhere during that sentence.

* * *

><p>I'm warm (not too warm) and cool (not too cool), snuggled into a pair of sweats and a long sleeved top. I'm the Goldilocks of temperature and I've found my 'just right'.<p>

I pad downstairs into the kitchen to face two big bears to demand to know why they seem to know why it wasn't 'just right' in the first place. I think that analogy should have ended a sentence ago, I'm lost. Anyway, I know that they know something and I want to know what they know. There that was far less complicated, kind of.

The smell of food wraps round me teasingly and like a blood hound on a scent trail I high tail it to the dinner table. Momentarily distracted by my over eager stomach I nearly miss the hushed conversation in the kitchen.

"How could this be possible, Russell? There are no other Caelens on this planet."

I should probably mention at this point that Caelum (pronounced like Kay-lum) is our home planet, the people on our planet being known as Caelen (Kay-len) as opposed to Human.

"I don't know, Judith. But it's the only reasonable explanation. We took a chance coming to this planet without knowing what effect it would have on Quinn when she's no longer around our people."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know. We need to know more about the situation. So let's talk to Quinn."

"Yeah talk to me," I say while leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, munching on a piece of bread because my stomach was seemingly unaware of the more important issues.

They are slightly startled by my presence. My mother quickly plasters on a grin. "Let's eat shall we. We can discuss this over dinner." My mind wants to protest but in this instance my stomach is more dominant and quickly overrules my brain with a loud, forceful grumble.

I sit there shovelling food into my mouth while observing my parents closely, waiting for them to start the conversation. My father starts after I move on to second helpings. Smart move on his part as we are all slightly more relaxed after having eaten something.

"Quinn, I think it's safe to say that we are all very confused by what happened to you today. Though your mother and I have a theory we would like to know more about how this all started. We will work though this together and get to the bottom of your condition and decide what, if anything, is to be done about it." It's a very diplomatic start. I'm appeased by the knowledge that they will include me in their theories and decisions. I'm rather suspicious of my parents, I've had good reason. I know they keep a lot of secrets from me and it irks me that they don't treat me as an equal who is capable of handling any situation as well as them if I have all the facts.

In their eyes I'm still the little girl they had back on Caelum before the war started. I was still only young (9 Earth years) when I ran away to join the resistance. That may seem preposterous by human standards but Caelen children are very bright, and my youth meant that I could adapt quickly to life in time of war. I was a quick learner and studied fighting techniques and tactics, becoming a valued weapon as a soldier. I was small, fast and agile perfect for reconnaissance and sabotage missions, so that's what I did for a _very_ long time. War was my life, it was pretty much all I knew. However the older members of our society, my parents included, had a difficult time adjusting. Caelens by nature are very peaceful people, valuing only intellect and wisdom. So when a race of people that can only be described as barbarians brought war upon us, most of the elders fled and went into hiding while the younger Caelens stayed to fight for the planet.

I had little contact with my parents during this time, when we were in contact, we argued, a lot. My parents were respectable figures and held a lot of sway with members of the Elder's Council. I argued that if they could persuade the elders to come out of hiding and fight then the numbers would be greatly in our favour and we could claim the planet ours again. They argued that the planet was lost. The elders were looking for new planets for re-settlement and begged me to come with them.

A time came that I got an urgent message that they were in peril so naturally I rushed to their aid, only to find an ambush waiting for me. Fifty of my own people had set a trap and I was quickly overpowered and incapacitated. I woke up on a private spacecraft, light years from our planet. I was livid.

I snap myself back to the present and take a deep breath. I fill them in on my day thus far, brushing over some of the more boring details and embarrassing moments. I finish and sit patiently for their verdict. They are both deep in thought until my father again breaks the silence.

"Have you experienced anything like this before today?"

"Not to this extent obviously, but yesterday there was a moment in the school hallway when I felt the tingling and warm feeling in my arm, but it was transient and only my arm."

"What were you doing when this happened? Were you with anyone?"

"I had just been sent out of Miss Swarbrick's class, I was on my own until…Rachel came."

"The same Rachel from fifth period today?"

"Yes."

"How long have you known Rachel?"

"I only sort of met her yesterday."

"In the hallway?"

"Yes."

"What _exactly_ happened in the hallway?"

"She asked if I was okay and gave me a bottle of water and some aspirin and left."

"Oh that's sweet," my mother interjected happily. I tried to hide my blush, my father ignored her.

"That's it? Did you take the aspirin?"

"No what would be the point?"

"Good, well at least we know it's not something you've taken." I didn't think it was that either although being allergic to her hand cream was still in my mind.

"Was there any…um intimate contact between you two?"

"Er…define intimate."

"Uh…well a hug…or a kiss on the cheek or hand…or something of that um nature." _This is getting awkward._

"Um…kind of," I was hoping I could just leave it at that and spare myself the embarrassment; however, the looks on their faces suggested that they wanted me to elaborate. "She touched my wrist after I…"

"You…?" my mother prompted when it didn't look as though I would finish the sentence.

"Please remember that I was in the grips of a migraine. I was leaning against a locker with my eyes closed feeling sorry for myself, when she approached. In my pain addled brain I think I must have thought she was some kind of an alarm clock because she was making a lot of noise, so I think I was trying to find a snooze button by…groping her face." I braved a glance at their reactions and as anticipated they were looking at me incredulously. "Before for you say anything I have already apologised to her, she forgave me, I understand that that was not proper social etiquette of these people and I have already lived through this embarrassment more times then I would care to."

"Well that is certainly an unconventional meeting of two people," my mother comments, thankfully keeping her opinions of me to herself. "But it may still fit our theory."

I looked at them expectedly. My mother looked towards my father who was looking suddenly extremely uncomfortable and merely gestured back pleadingly to my mother.

"Right, where to begin…? I don't suppose you remember much of life on Caelum before the war, you were so young."

"I remember that everything was beautiful and peaceful. I remember laughter and stories and school and our home in the valley right on the river, surrounded by trees."

"Yes it was beautiful. And if it had stayed that way you would have had a more conventional Caelen upbringing, with us." My mother pauses briefly a look of sadness passes across her face and in a blink it's gone again. "As you know Caelens only have one mate in life, they never have a love before or after their mate," _okay where is this going? _"When Caelens reach a certain age they become receptible to their mate." _Wait…this isn't going where I think its going is it?_

"Please tell me you're not going where I think you're going with this," I pleaded.

"If it hadn't been for the war you would have learnt about these things a long time ago. The important details about what happens when a Caelen meets their mate are what we never got the chance to teach you," _Kill. Me. Now!_

"Oh what analogy is it the humans like to use? The birds in the trees?"

"I think it's the birds and the bees, Mum."

"Don't be silly, dear. Birds don't mate with bees."

"Birds don't mate with _trees_."

"No but birds live in trees and mate with other birds, so I think it's the birds in the trees."

"Whatever, Mum. Can we leave the birds out of this?"

I'm dying from embarrassment and my mother is dragging this out. I may have the IQ superseding the geniuses on this planet but it apparently doesn't mean I'm any better informed or practised in the finer details of reproduction than the brilliant minds on this planet. Basically I'm a geek without a clue. "Can you give me the abridged text book version and leave out the fluff?"

"Very well. You've already gone through the 'puberty' that Caelens experience where the body becomes ready to find a mate. Thankfully the process is quicker and a lot less messy than what humans experience; you wouldn't have noticed it. It's a subtle change; a gene is switched on so your body will recognise your mate once you find them." She takes a deep breath like she is ready to take a plunge. "However, the greater changes take place when you meet your mate; it's when the bonding process begins. Both parties are unconsciously drawn to one another by sensing the other's pheromones, until some kind of intimate contact is made between them, a kiss for example. The intimate contact starts a chain reaction of chemical changes that bind you to your mate chemically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. For the process to complete itself, the mates need to remain in the presence of one another for a prolonged period of time. The usual side effect is increased body temperature due to the extreme chemical changes. However, the temperature increase that you experienced was more excessive then what most Caelens go through. This is part of the reason why this is just a theory."

The whole room is silent while I process everything.

"So you think I've found my mate? Who is Rachel Berry?" I say slowly.

"Or possibly the gentleman you encountered before her. Jacob was it?"

"Oh no. No. Just. No! Not him! No way!"

"You did say he made sexual advances towards you. It's possible," Words escape me while I try and overcome the nauseous feeling roiling in my stomach, so I just shake a finger at them and send them a hard glare. "Or not," she concedes.

"The thing is," my father begins. Speaking for the first time since the mating topic was brought up, "it's unheard of for a Caelen to find a mate with someone who isn't a Caelen. In the whole history of our species, it has never happened. This is what is throwing us. And if the case is that you have found a human as a mate then we are in completely unchartered territory."

"That's a scary thought."

"Indeed."

"So if this was a normal mating on Caelum, what could I expect to happen next?"

"Well…Judith? You are obviously better at this then me…" he started, shifting uncomfortably again, turning to his mate to save him. My mother smiled at him teasingly before turning to me.

"All the romantic notions you've ever heard about. You would be instinctively protective, calmed by their presence, emotionally in tune with one another, practically inseparable. And of course there is the um…physical aspect. Particularly in the early stages of the mating the attraction and arousal felt by both parties is intense and-"

"Okay, okay. You can spare me the details I get the picture."

"But remember, sweetie, we have no idea how this situation will affect you. The bond's strength comes from the mates being completely in tune, so a bond with a human who obviously doesn't share the same physiology as you, will likely be very unstable. That means that everything that happens for you and Rachel from now on is unknown and completely unpredictable."

_Wonderful, I feel completely reassured now._

"I would love to document this as it happens," my mother adds eagerly, "this could be an exciting historic event. Oh you should invite Rachel round," she nudges me excitedly. "We would love to meet her!"

"Great, sure," I say with all the fake enthusiasm I can muster. "I can see the conversation in my head now. 'Hey Rachel, I know we don't really know each other but I'm an alien and I'm bonded to you for life. Would you like to meet my parents?'"

"I would suggest a little more tact, Quinnie."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nose plugs and Lamborghinis 

"Mum, I'm running late, I'm going to take one of the cars to school." I yell while hastily stuffing school books into my bag.

"Which one honey?" I hear yelled back from the kitchen.

"I don't know, which one did Dad take?" I'm running downstairs, into the hallway, throwing on the boots that go with my outfit.

"The Bentley."

"Okay I'm taking the Aston." I rifle through the assortment of keys hanging on hooks on the wall.

"Can you take the Lamborghini? I'm going food shopping and I need the boot space."

"This is not an episode of 90210, I can't show up to school in Ohio in a Lamborghini. What about the Jeep?"

"It's in for repairs."

"Urgh, okay," I grab the keys to the Lambo, "see you later Mum!"

"Bye sweetie, say hi to Rachel for me!" I slam the door behind me, pretending I didn't hear that last bit.

I head to the large garage to the side of the house, punch the code into the key pad by the side door to allow entry. The lights come on in the spacious room, reflecting off the white ceiling, walls and floor. The shiny floor is slightly scuffed with tire marks but the room is other wise immaculate. I pass our collection of motorbikes, the Aston Martin DB9, the McLaren Mercedes SLR, the Ferrari 458 Italia and head to the far end of the garage to the bright orange Lamborghini Murcielago which makes no attempts at blending in or subtlety. I open the garage door with a key fob and climb into the low bucket seated interior of the car. I close the vertical car door with a solid thunk, and hold the ignition button next to the steering wheel. The low thundering grumble of the ignition vibrates through me, a smile brakes across my face before I even realise it. _Every time._

One of the difficult things about starting a new life on this planet was realising everything you did depended on money and we had none. Unfortunately when we arrived we found that there was no extraterrestrial passport control, and upon seeing Men In Black I laughed that humans could dream up such a thing but have no idea that it would actually be incredibly useful. It would have been so wonderfully simple if we could have turned up and said 'Hello we're aliens, our planet is over-run and now we have no home. Could we stay here please? Oh we can? Oh how kind of you. Yes we would like some complementary spending money, and a map…does it have points of interest on it by any chance? Oh wonderful. Can we also have an Earth guide and how many languages does Rosetta Stone cover? And what is a _visa_ exactly and how do we know if we have the right one? Oh you have no clue either, haha, I'm glad it's not just me. And the bus shuttles run…how often from here?'

Alas, this did not happen and we had to figure out everything for ourselves including how to acquire some of that paper currency that seemed so popular. We contemplated briefly the idea of stealing it but that seemed immoral and wasn't how we wanted to start this new life. And although we drew up false documents so that we could get a loan from the bank, everything from that point on was legitimate, mostly. We used the money in investments and the stock market. We were at an advantage having the intelligence to learn quickly the history of the planet, the patterns in the stock market and to come up with algorithms that would predict the best investments for the future. The money rolled in by the million but we managed to avoid too much suspicion by throwing in the odd poor choice now and then, losing a few to gain a lot.

Once our financial situation was secure we decided to move to a quiet area and live a day to day 'normal' existence, though we permitted ourselves a few luxuries. We bought a large, but not preposterously large, house in a suburban area in Lima, Ohio, but the one thing both my father and I decided to let loose on was cars. Hence why I'm currently roaring down the streets of Lima in a brightly coloured super car. We had nothing like these cars on Caelum; they would have been viewed as archaic and suicidally dangerous. My father and I loved them, in his own words they are 'perfectly imperfect' and seriously fun.

I suddenly remember my hesitance of taking this particular car to school as soon as I pull through the school gates. Nearly every pair of eyes are already trained on me as I enter the grounds and I realise they must have heard the Lamborghini coming from miles away. I slouch down in my seat and wonder if I can coast into a parking spot with the engine turned off. I can't. The car is so wide it won't fit into a normal single parking bay so I have to scour the car park until I find two empty spaces together to park in. I should have just walked and been late. By now a small crowd has gathered to gawp at the car. _This definitely isn't Beverley Hills._

I step out of the car as gracefully as possible considering that the seat is so low my arse was practically kissing the tarmac. I shoulder my bag and nearly decapitate a student who stuck his head in to look at the car interior before I slammed the door down. I ignore the questions, comments and the two marriage proposals I receive and walk straight into school to my locker.

"Hey Cinderella!" I hear before Santana leans against the locker next to me. "Nice pumpkin outside." I take my time before turning to her.

"Good morning, Santana," I say with fake sweetness. She wants something.

"We should have a girl talk, you know, hot girl," gesturing to me, "to even hotter girl," gesturing to self.

"And what would _we _have to discuss?"

"Lots of things I imagine now that we are friends." I stare at her wondering if she sprayed a little too much hairspray into that Cheerio ponytail this morning and is now high off the fumes.

"Friends? Since when?"

"Since I decided that us hot girls should stick together."

"I'm not joining the Cheerios," I say flatly.

"Why would I want you to do that? I'm the Head Cheerio now but everyone knows that Miss Sylvester would slap the Head Cheerio label on you before you could squeeze into your spanks," this is true the infamous coach has been trying to recruit me ever since I joined the school in September. "No I don't want that. I'm the HBIC of this school and it's gonna stay that way. What I want is you."

"Excuse me!"

"Two weeks of us being friends and then you're going to ask me out," she states matter of fact. I close my locker door slowly and turn to her fully. I study her carefully, she has her best poker face on I can't get a read from her so I place some bait.

"Now why would I do that?"

"I've got you figured out Fabray. Guys have been falling over themselves left, right and centre to ask you out and you have turned down every single one. My bet is you're a closeted lady lover, who's just too afraid to come out. So think about what I'm offering here, I'm so high up in the food chain that I could guarantee you immunity from any backlash that you will get when you come out. Plus you get to be in lesbians with me and I give all my sweet lady kisses which I bet you're just dying for, being the poor repressed little lesbian that you are. For me I get the _second _hottest thing at this school as arm candy and my popularity sky rockets, cementing my title of Queen Bitch. Its win-win for us baby," she coos while stroking my side. I detach her hand and create some space between us.

"That's a nice little speech. But I've got you all figured out Lopez. See _I _think _you're_ the closeted lady lover, who's afraid to come out. You're searching for immunity because you just can't take not being yourself anymore but you are afraid of being dethroned if you do," I see her expression falter and I know I've hit the nail on the head.

"Don't worry I'm not going to out you Santana, you should do it yourself when you're good and ready. But I don't want to be involved in any of your schemes. Are we clear?" She's stuttering. I can see her trying to find some kind of defence. I think this is one of the first times she has ever been called out, people usually just fall to her whim. "You stick to your world and I'll stick to mine." I spy a tall blond hair, blued eyed cheerleader over her shoulder.

"Speaking of your world I think Brittany is waiting for you." She turns her head dazedly and makes eye contact with Brittany who smiles happily and waves. She turns back to me with a hard glare.

"You speak a word of this conversation to anyone and I _swear_ I will make your life a living hell, Fabray!" she whispers harshly before whipping round and storming off to a now concerned looking Brittany.

_Those two are so obvious and so cute. _I chuckle to myself and turn around to head to class only to instantly make eye contact with two familiar chocolate brown eyes down the hall. Rachel Berry is standing at her open locker watching me. Before I can even contemplate any kind of reaction she quickly tears her eyes from me in less then a second of me catching her. She slams her locker shut and hurries away through the crowds of students.

It's only after she leaves I realise my heart is thudding in my chest, there are butterflies in my stomach (_an odd expression but somehow accurate_) and all from a mere second of eye contact. _I was just shocked to see her there. That's all. _That's what I tell myself.

I don't know how I feel about this whole mate idea yet, I'm still searching for an alternate explanation. But if this is what's happening and Rachel is involved I need to test this theory. I don't even know this girl, I don't even know if I like her and I have no idea how she feels about me. I can't seem to suppress the very real fear that if I have bonded to her this could be entirely one sided. Humans don't experience love like Caelens and can fall in love multiple times, or not at all, only experience lust but not love or have unrequited love. Caelens are connected body and soul to their mate, I have seen Caelens die of broken hearts shortly after their mates die; one cannot live without the other, this much I do know. I saw too much of it during the war. I'm scared of the questions lingering in my mind, _do I tell her? How will she react? If she doesn't want anything to do with me, can I let her go without knowing what will happen to me if I do? If she cannot return the feelings if the bond is incomplete… will I die? _

I need to get to the bottom of this and the only way to do that is to chase my only lead, Rachel Berry. 

* * *

><p>I spend my classes and tutoring sessions trying to figure out how to approach her. So far I had only seen glimpses of her in the hallway before she would see me and head in the opposite direction. She was avoiding me. I figured she probably thought I was weird, and she wouldn't be wrong, we haven't had the best of starts what with migraines, inappropriate face touching and hot flushes. Then there's all the stuff she doesn't know about, aliens and mating rituals etc, so it's probably best to withhold that information for now and work on repairing the damage that has already been done.<p>

I know she would have to see me on Monday for our tutoring session but I can't wait that long, I'm not going to over analyse why. I discreetly ask random students what they know about Rachel, and what I gather is that not many people know her at all, those that do say she is annoying, condescending, talks too much, has terrible choice in clothing but a couple grudgingly admit that without it she would be kind of hot. None of this is very useful, and I find myself biting my tongue to stop my self from snapping at them every time they make a derogatory comment about her. Finally I get a lead when someone mentions I should talk to Jacob Ben Israel.

"…that freak is obsessed with her, always posting stuff on his blog about her."

I'm in luck, I've got a tutoring session with Jacob next.

"Jacob, I'm glad you're here," I say as warmly as I can manage considering that I find him vile.

"Really?" He asks sceptically.

"Yeah, I hear that your blog is very popular, providing all the latest hot gossip. You must be very proud of what you have achieved." He relaxes a little, a smug grin spreading across his face, slipping into the seat beside me.

"I am. So you like my blog huh?" he slides closer to me and gives what I imagine is his version of a sexy grin. "How about I give you a little insight into the man behind the words?" he's stroking my arm with one finger suggestively and I have to physically swallow my gag. I plaster on the sweetest smile I can manage.

"Please do. I can't wait to find out where all your…inspiration comes from. You have such a talent for getting those all those stories we really want to hear about and the way you put them into words is…poetic," I'm not going to be winning awards for my acting any time soon. Pretending I'm swooning over him and trying not to vomit is a difficult challenge but he's falling into it like I hoped. He looks like he's about to jizz in his pants "But there is one thing you can really tell me about…no actually it's stupid, forget I said anything," I say while acting bashful.

"No please, you can ask me anything, my blond vixen." His gaze lingers over my body and I want to go take a bath and scrub myself clean.

"You mention Rachel Berry in your blogs with such passion, I just…I just want to get behind that passion, know what you know, feel what you feel. Tell me about Rachel Berry." He wines and grabs himself through his trousers. I tear my eyes away from him in disgust.

"Rachel is so…" he lets out a shuddering breath, grabbing himself tighter then proceeds to tell me everything he knows about Rachel. I sit through long descriptions of her beauty, her talent at singing, her talented mouth, her myspace videos, vivid details about his wet dreams about her, disturbing amounts of detail about the inside of her bedroom. The fact that he has her class schedule, her extra curricular activities mapped out, and the small trinkets of her possessions he has collected and made into a shrine. I sit there through all of it gritting my teeth, clenching my fists until my nails are tearing into my skin. I'm boiling with rage, my posture is rigid I'm glaring daggers at him, tearing him apart piece by piece in my mind, but he is oblivious.

"Oh Rachel is just so WANKY-" I snap. My hand is around his throat before he can blink. I'm squeezing. He's terrified. I don't know how to stop. I'm not sure if I want to stop. Snapping his neck would be so easy, I just have to clench my fingers just a little more and the world would be rid of this foul human. I want to do it, he can never touch Rachel again never be near her again, no one can. _She's mine! _

I suddenly realise where my dark thoughts have gone. I'm horrified at myself. I release my death grip on him but only enough for him to breathe, I'm still seething with rage. He gasps long ragged lung-full's of air, there are tear streaks down his face. He is still trying to swat my hand away from him and I notice for the first time there are bleeding scratches over the skin of my wrist and hand from his fingernails.

"Listen up JewFro," I growl at him when he finally realises that I'm not letting go and stops struggling as much. "You are the most depraved, loathsome, repugnant, perverted, repulsive, disgrace of a boy I have ever had the misfortune of meeting in my short time on this planet," _woops, didn't mean to let that slip._ Oh well it can be taken in a number of ways I suppose. "You should be disgusted with yourself, as I am with you. You _will _shut down your sordid and contemptible blog, you will delete everything you have regarding Rachel from your computer, videos, pictures, _everything_! You will return Rachel's possessions to her _clean _or dispose of them. You here by have a restraining order against you enforced by me, if you come within 500ft of her or so much as look in her direction I will hunt you down and make you sorry for your very existence. So it would probably be a good idea to transfer schools, don't you think?" He nods desperately. "And if you miss out any of the above, I _will _find out and I will make you realise that it was never _that _worth it."

I guess this could be the possessive, protective thing my mother was talking about. _Is it meant to be this intense? Was I really about to kill someone because of it? _Caelen life was so peaceful before the war, I have no recollection of any aggressive disputes over mates. _Is it just me? Has war done this to me?_

I practically throw Jacob away from me. "Get out of here. Now!" he scrambles away from me and out the door. The look in his eyes tells me just how much he fears me, and in that moment I hate myself. I hate myself because a part of me pleased. 

* * *

><p>I sit in the library long after the last bell of school has rung. I feel terrible for what I did but every time I run the memory through my mind rage coils inside me again and again. No matter how many times I try to see it play out differently, the events repeat in the exactly the same way or worse. I wouldn't have done any less to protect her. I've spent no more than an hour with her in total but the urge to keep her safe runs deep into the fabric of my being.<p>

I sit because I'm fighting another urge to go find her, to make sure she's safe. I want to be around her because I feel like her presence would calm me. But I don't go because I need to calm _myself_ first. I need peace in my mind before I see her again. So I sit and I meditate.

I take slow breaths and relax my body, starting from my toes to the top of my head. I empty my mind of everything with practised ease. Suddenly I'm no longer in the Library, I'm back on Caelum, bathing in the warm light of the sun. I'm sitting in my favourite spot by our house on a rock underneath a flowering tree looking over the sweeping valley below me. I can hear the stream not far from me trickling down to meet with the river below. It's serene and tranquil, my mind is quiet and blissful. Quiet stirrings of music drift to me from the valley, a beautiful voice carries on the breeze, it draws me back into my body, and I follow till my eyes flutter open. I'm in the library and that music wasn't in my mind, it's coming from down the hallway.

I'm feeling relaxed now but intrigued as I follow the sound to the auditorium. I open the doors and stop in my tracks. Rachel, my Rachel, is centre stage pouring her heart out into song. I don't recognise the song but I'm struck dumb by her gorgeous voice. The emotion is palpable and I go weak at the knees. I sit in the seat nearest me at the back of the room and just listen. The song is about a passionate but heartbreaking unrequited love and for those few minutes I feel every word and note.

The song draws to a close and Rachel belts out the last notes, I'm on my feet in an instant cheering and clapping. Suddenly half a dozen or so heads whip round to see me. My clapping slows to an awkward stop out of embarrassment and insecurity. _This must be the Glee club. _

They are all staring at me with odd, puzzled looks, but the look I can't decipher is Rachel's, she stares at me for a long moment then runs off stage. I run out the door I came through and sprint round the corridors in hopes of finding her. 

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel's POV<strong>

I walk hurriedly out of the school hastily texting my dads to ask for a lift home. A reply comes a moment later that neither of them can be there. I resolve myself to walk the few miles home despite the abundance of song books in my arms that already feel like a dead weight.

"Rachel,"

I tense. I don't need to turn around to know who that soft breathy voice belongs to. The owner of it has been plaguing my dreams and daydreams ever since I first saw her. I can't get her out of my head, and that was okay at first when she didn't even know I existed because it meant that I barely saw her and wasn't constantly aware of the effect her presence had on me. But ever since that fateful day in the corridor during class I'm seeing her everywhere.

Literally the very next morning my physics teacher caught me in the corridor and told me he had arranged a tutor for me during my study period if I be willing. Normally this sort of thing would bruise my pride but I had been having such trouble getting to grips with the subject and had complained to my teacher numerous times, suggesting he wasn't teaching it properly, so I jumped at the chance to see if someone else was more competent at the task.

Seeing Quinn Fabray in the library sitting waiting for me, stilled me like stone in my tracks. My heart leapt into my throat, my palms went sweaty and my mouth ran dry. I have performed in front of audiences countless times but I had never been so nervous as I was at the prospect of spending an hour with Quinn Fabray.

I summoned all my courage and pulled together my resolve to finally make a proper introduction. What I was thoroughly unprepared for was the double blow I received when she smiled at me and shook my hand. _That smile. God that charming, sexy smile. _Sure I had seen it before but to have it directed at me full force sent a pulse of arousal straight to my core, quickly followed by the tingling shock of her hand touching mine. I should have seen that one coming when the day before having her hand on my face left me disorientated, and finding out by caressing her wrist with my thumb, that yes, her skin really is as soft as it looks.

I spent most of that study session staring intently at my text book trying desperately not to look at her, which was next to impossible when she was constantly shifting in her chair and tugging at her clothes. I nearly lost it when she started fanning herself. Seeing out of the corner of my eye those luscious blond locks dancing in breeze she was creating, I had to say something to distract her and make her stop. I fumbled through an explanation of the topic we were studying but I got distracted when her breathing picked up. Curiously, I finally looked up at her. That was a mistake. She looked like sex personified. She was deliciously flushed, her chest was heaving, her perfect lips were parted as she panted, and she looked ready to tear out of her clothes. I was instantly wet. I tried to overcome my arousal with concern, _because really, something was wrong here._

I figured I could get away with the friendly gesture of concern and gage her temperature from her forehead, only to be shocked at how hot her skin was. I momentarily thought I was scolded, but reprimanded myself for the silly thought; body temperature can't get that hot. At that point I was genuinely worried about her health and thought she must still be unwell from the day before, so she probably didn't need me gawping at her like a hormonal teenage boy. Only I felt like a hormonal teenage boy when she moaned at the full contact of my hand. It felt like someone else was in control of my hand as I caressed down her cheek, spurred on by her breathy sigh until I reached her neck. When she nuzzled into my hand and vocalised her pleasure, the pleasure that _I _was creating, I had to bite my lip to stop from moaning. Then her eyes snapped to mine. Her usual sparkling hazel eyes were intensely dark, her pupils were blown, the look was…hungry?

I tore my eyes away from her piercing gaze only to find them settle on those perfectly shaped lips. Lips that I desperately wanted to taste and had so far only been able to imagine in my dreams. I leaned in, or she did…no it must have been me. So close. Then the bell rang and I realised exactly what I had been doing. Quinn was ill, feverish, yet I tried to take advantage of her. There was no way I could have gotten that close to her if she was perfectly healthy. I was embarrassed and ashamed of my actions and all together still too aroused when we fumbled to our respective exits.

I have been avoiding her ever since.

However, I have apparently failed at the task. I have no idea what she was doing in the auditorium just now. I had been congratulating myself when I got to Glee, thinking I had escaped her all day when everyone else had gone home. I had relaxed a little and chose a song to belt out my frustrations at having feelings for the infamous Quinn Fabray knowing that she could never return them. Why would she? She was _Quinn, _achingly beautiful, undisputed genius, frustratingly perfect at everything and _I_ was the school's pariah.

I had unknowingly sung the song that was about her, to her. And there she had been, clapping and cheering for me. I had no idea how to feel about that, I was shocked, happy, flattered, terrified and bewildered all at the same time, so I ran.

And she apparently followed.

"Rachel," she said again. I love the way my name sounds from her lips, I just want to hear her say it over and over and over again. I turn jerkily round to face her.

"Hey," she says softly with an equally soft smile. _Damn her and her disarming charm._

"Hey," I croak back.

"I just wanted to say, that was amazing," she gestures briefly back to the school building but keeps her eyes and smile trained on me. "_You _were amazing. You are _so _talented. When you mentioned Broadway yesterday, I didn't know what to think, but now I see it. You really are a star in the making," she gushes and I'm blushing from my chest to the tops of my ears and grinning like a fool. "I had never heard that song before but when you sang I felt every word every emotion, it was heart wrenching but so, so beautiful."

She listened. She really listened, but she had no idea that the song was about her. I was ecstatic and delighted by her compliments but torn between whether I felt disappointed or relieved that she didn't know I was singing about her.

"Th-thank you, Quinn," I eventually stutter out. "It means so much to me to hear you say that, I'm exceedingly flattered." _You have no idea. _"But just out of curiosity, what are you doing here?"

"Uh…yeah…sorry about that," she runs a hand through her blond waves, suddenly unsure of herself, but I can't help thinking she looks really cute. "I guess it was a bit rude of me to crash your Glee club. I was in the library…studying," I'm not sure but I think she just rolled her eyes at herself for going into unnecessary detail. _Again, cute. _"And I heard this beautiful voice, I just had to find it."

_Damn this blush, and damn you for being so charming you infernal woman. _

"Anyway, could I maybe offer you a ride home?" _Oh she's sweet. _But no, really not a good idea.

"Thank you but I'm fine walking." Her brow furrows in what I assume is concern.

"Are you sure? Those books look heavy" she gestures to my arms and the books that I had managed to forget about until this very moment. Now that I'm aware of them again, yes they are heavy, very. However, I can't risk being stuck in a confined space with her. So I shake my head, and ignore the dull ache in my arms and lie through my teeth.

"No they're fine really. I-I like walking." She cocks her head at me and I think she knows I'm lying.

"Are you avoiding me?" She asks gently.

"No," I say a little too quickly. "Wh-why would you think that?"

"Because you've been avoiding me," She states flatly.

"If you're so sure, why did you ask?"

"Because I wanted your confirmation without flat out accusing you."

"But you did accuse me."

"Because you lied to me."

"How can you be so sure of that?" She takes a step closer to me.

"Because you answered too quickly and you stuttered."

"Stuttering doesn't imply lying."

"It implies nervousness."

"Why would I be nervous?"

"You tell me."

Silence drips on as I refuse to answer. Her eyes bore into mine challengingly. She's standing so close to me I have to tilt my head to maintain eye contact. There is a thick tension between us that I can't decipher. I'm a little intimidated by her and more than a little turned on. She gives in first.

"Anyway you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"You didn't ask that question."

"I'm asking now."

"You asking that implies that I am avoiding you."

"Are you?"

"No."

She stares at me hard. Her piercing hazel eyes look through me like she's reading my thoughts, as if they are scrolling behind my eyes. A smirk breaks at the corners of her mouth, her eyes turn playful. _God, she looks sexy._

"In that case, you'd be perfectly happy to accept a lift home from me," she announces happily, and grabs the books from my arms, walking off.

_What just happened? _

"Hey!" I yell belatedly, jogging after her. "I said. No. Thank you!"

"You're welcome!" She sing-songs over her shoulder. Her hips swing cockily as she strides towards her car. _Urgh. This insufferable woman. _What the hell was I thinking swooning over her? Cute? She's not cute. Clearly she is a cocky, arrogant know-it-all.

By the time I catch up to her she is bending over, placing my books in the foot-well of the passenger side. I must have been distracted by my thoughts –- or something that most definitely didn't have anything to do with how good her arse looks in those skinny jeans –- because I only then notice the car.

"Oh no. No. There is no way I'm getting in that! That thing is a death trap!"

"It's only a death trap if driven fast by a poor driver."

"Are you saying you don't speed?"

"I'm saying I _won't _speed." I look at her disbelievingly. "Come on, give me more credit than that. I'm a very careful driver, particularly when someone else's life is in my hands. I don't take that lightly." She looks incredibly sincere, and maybe a smidgen hurt. A lecture on appropriate road safe vehicles dies on my tongue. I feel bad, and let out a heavy sigh because I know I will be getting in this beast of a car. Her face splits into a wide toothy grin. My knees go weak.

"I promise you the smoothest ride of your life, Rachel," she says happily as I drop myself into the low seat, after declining her offered hand. She goes to shut the door for me but pauses. "Not the quietest though, I can't promise you it will be quiet," she adds thoughtfully then gently but firmly shuts my door.

It is quiet though. Too quiet.

Not the barking, growling, shouty engine. That most certainly is not quiet. It seems incredibly angry that its owner is driving it so sensibly, as Quinn, true to her word, keeps to the speed limit and accelerates, changes gear and brakes incredibly smoothly, even going so far as to avoid pot holes and drains that would otherwise elicit an uncomfortable jolt due to the hardened suspension.

The quiet I'm referring to is inside the car, where the silence between Quinn and I is thick with tension. I can't even break it by turning on the radio because there isn't one. _Seriously, what kind of car doesn't have a radio? A barky, growly, shouty one doesn't._

It's a damn shame too because I needed a distraction from my heightened awareness of everything Quinn. In such a confined space I can smell Quinn's delicious perfume and a scent that is uniquely Quinn. It's so warm and inviting that I just want to sidle up and snuggle into her, breathing it in deep.

I'm hyper aware of her every movement, they are always graceful and purposeful, and the car responds thusly as if the machine is an extension of her. The way she commands control over the raw, animalistic, powerful nature of this car reminds me somewhat of a lion tamer, dancing with the deadly beast. The next thought that enters my mind is that I want her to control me like that. I crave the feel of her making slow, purposeful movements on me and I would writhe and arch and moan as she demanded it.

My thoughts tailspin into vivid daydreams and I clench my highs together to try and relieve the growing ache. Out of the corner of my eye I see her inhale deeply then grip the steering wheel tightly, and I wonder where her thoughts are. Obviously nowhere near as sinful as mine.

**Quinn's POV**

_This is torture. _How can anyone smell this good? It's not even her perfume it's just _her. _Her arousal, and its sweet and heady and mouth watering. Oh God, I can practically taste her, but I want more. So much more. I just want to pull over, throw her on the car hood and bury my head between her thighs and lick and kiss and tease until I've tasted every last drop she can manage. Her scent is making me ache for her, touching something primal in me. _I want her. She's mine, I can smell it._

I hastily fumble for the window button. Fresh air whips over my face as the window descends and I breathe it in deep, forcing myself to smell anything but her. I feel some semblance of control coming back to me but I still refuse to take my eyes off the road and try to ignore the way those creamy soft thighs shift in the corner of my eye.

This is insane. This morning all I wanted to do was talk to her, get to know her and try and figure out if there was anything between us. Now I'm wondering if these seats recline enough to fuck her senseless. Honestly, how the hell did I get here? Oh yeah, it had something to do with being protective of her because of insensitive students, nearly killing JewFro in a fit of jealous, possessive, protective rage, being blown away by how breathtakingly beautiful she is when she sings, and realising within a minute of conversation with her that she is attracted to me and then being stuck in a confined space with her where I can smell just how much she's attracted to me.

I was certainly surprised to notice how turned on she was. After I had thoroughly embarrassed myself by gushing about her performance like a fangirl and having to tear my eyes away from studying her beautiful features as if seeing them for the first time, I decided to extend a bridge of friendship as I figured that was as good a place to start as any.

When she turned down my offer of a lift a second time when I could see her arm muscles quivering under the strain of holding all those books I decided to confront her avoidance of me. The banter between us flowed easily as I attempted to trick a confession out of her. I was enjoying myself and that's when I noticed her pupils were fully blown, making her normally chocolate brown eyes black, her respiration rate had nearly doubled, her skin was flushed and she unconsciously licked her lips as she stared up at me. Not to mention a sweet, heady kind of familiar scent drifted to me and I remember that I smelt it yesterday in the library too, but this time I recognised it for what it was. She was aroused.

Two things hit me at once: first, I realised that she must be somehow affected by this bond too which I had thought improbable considering our different physiologies. The second thing I became cognizant of was that her scent made my core pulse with desire. At least that's what I assume it is, as I have never felt anything like it before. Nothing else has ever garnered this reaction from me and I wonder if this is how humans feel all the time considering their tendencies towards promiscuity, and if so, how do they deal with it, other than the obvious?

I still don't know why she was avoiding me when she obviously feels something towards me, but I figure she is just as confused by this as I am and probably does think I'm weird. It's why I then decide to make it my mission to get to know each other, I want her to trust me and find out if I can trust her.

I steal a quick glance at her now as we approach her house. She looks like she is fighting some internal battle, her brow is slightly scrunched and she shifts around in her seat, bringing her hands underneath her to keep them still.

This is going to be difficult for both of us. I'm running a hundred different possible scenarios through my mind as I calculate the most probable outcome for each and come to the conclusion that any rash action on my part whether its confessing everything to her about what I am and the bond between us or following what my body and her body is telling me to do and taking her against the nearest flat surface; anything like that would be too soon and result in scaring her away.

We need to take this slow, _really_ slow. Anything less would be unfair on her. So I need ignore my body's reaction to her and maybe develop some kind of discreet nose plugs, so we can take baby steps. Trust, I need to earn her trust.

I finally pull into her driveway after possibly the longest car journey I've ever been in even though it was actually only five minutes. I turn the engine off, the silence is overwhelming. I stare at the steering wheel for a beat before finally turning to her.

"Thank you," I say sincerely. She blinks at me for a moment.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" I can't help smiling.

"I mean, thank you for letting me drive you home,"

"Oh," she still looks bewildered, "um, you're welcome…?" I chuckle lightly. She smiles. It's beautiful. "And thank you, you're actually a very good driver, I definitely felt safe," I'm beaming at her.

"I'm glad to hear it. The offer is always open by the way. Whenever you need a lift just give me a call."

"I don't have your number," I hold my hand out expectantly and gesture to her bag. She jolts into action a fishes out her phone. I save my number and hand it back to her.

"Now you do," I grin at her. "Seriously, use it. For whatever you want: a lift and I promise to pick you up in a more discreet car next time, or a difficult physics question or any other subject, or to rant about your day, or if you're just bored."

"I don't tend to call people I hardly know because I'm bored," she looks a little bemused.

"How about a friend?"

"You want us to be _friends_?" she asks incredulously. Okay that kind of hurt. I can't hide my wince.

"I know you think I'm weird and you're probably right-,"

"I don't think you're weird," she says abruptly, "I mean you're definitely…different and very mysterious, but I don't think that's a bad thing, you're like an enigma."

"So you don't want to be friends because you can't figure me out?"

"Who said I didn't want to be friends?" I'm confused.

"Uh you just did,"

"No, I was just sceptical that you would want to befriend _me_," _Oh._

"Oh. Why?"

"Because I'm Rachel Berry and I talk too much, and I'm abrasive, and I'm too ambitious, and I want things too much, and I'm obsessed with Broadway and Barbra Streisand, and I have two gay dads and I have terrible taste in clothing," she finishes exasperated.

"Okay first I need to say, it makes me sad that you think that way," she drops her head down, and I ignore my better judgment and lift her chin up with a finger until her eyes meet mine again. I ignore my body's reaction as I lightly caress her jaw with my thumb before letting go. "I like when you ramble, I think it's cute and I don't hear it enough, I don't find you abrasive, there is no such thing as being too ambitious or wanting things too much, a little obsession here and there is healthy plus Barbra Streisand is a legend and Broadway is magical, you having two dads is news to me but where I'm from it's very common and actually makes me feel a little bit closer to home, and lastly I like your clothes, they're expressive and adorable."

She's blushing like crazy and her smile is shy. I really like the effect my compliments have on her. "Okay so that was addressing what you thought of as negatives, want to hear some more positives?" she gapes at me but I don't wait to hear her answer. "You're beautiful, smart, polite, kind, probably the most talented person I've ever come across with the most gorgeous voice to match and…have I mentioned cute already?" She giggles and nods. "Well it's worth mentioning again."

"So friends?" I'm hopeful as I hold out my hand to her.

"Friends." She nods assuredly as she takes my hand.

Our hands and eyes stay connected for just a beat too long, and the air around us becomes thick with tension again. _Baby steps, Quinn, baby steps. Don't do anything stupid. _

Luckily Rachel pulls away first.

"I-I should probably get inside," she stutters while blindly fumbling for the door handle.

"Wait let me get that for you." I shoot out of my seat and sprint around the car to open her door. I hold out my hand again to help her out, she hesitates for a beat before taking it again and I wonder if it's because she gets the same warm tingles as I do whenever we touch. I bend down to scoop up her music books and walk with her to the front door.

"So are you going to stop avoiding me now," I ask playfully.

"I wasn't avoiding you,"

"Yes you were,"

"You have no proof,"

"I have very strong suspicions,"

"So you admit its pure conjecture,"

She's opened the front door and grabbed the books from my arms, tossed them on a nearby table before stepping back to me in the doorway with challenging eyes.

"I didn't say that. I'm inclined to suspect following some suspicious behaviour on your part including questionable evasive manoeuvres in the hallway, such peculiarities warrant suspicion."

"Yet no proof. Only the insight into your mind that you expect pattern and order in the movements of students. You anticipate and then throw into speculation any ambiguous abnormalities that don't acquiesce to your expectations. Tell me, do you always assume there is order in chaos?"

"Always. Every cause has an effect; every action has an equal reaction. Every good scientist knows to question abnormalities."

"So perhaps the cause of my about turns in the hallway was due to simply forgetting something in my locker."

"Between every class? Have you ever heard of Ockham's Razor? The principle that 'with all things being equal the best answer is the simplest one'. And the simplest answer in this case is that you were avoiding me."

We're standing toe to toe, our eyes boring into one another's. A slow smile creeps across her face.

"Am I ever going to win an argument with you?"

"Probably not unless I let you win," I smirk. "So why were you avoiding me?"

"I just admitted defeat, I didn't admit that you're right," _Oh she's good._ My smirk drops.

"How did I win, but not actually win?" I ask in disbelief. She looks positively smug.

"I must be a worthy opponent."

"Must be. Remind me to add 'extensive vocabulary' to my next list of compliments to you,"

"Okay," she murmurs through a smile. The gap between us has shortened almost imperceptibly. My eyes flicker back and forth from hers to her lips and I can see her doing the same. My nostrils flare with that familiar scent, my abs tighten as I feel a wave of arousal pulse through me. Those lips look so good.

_Don't kiss her_._ Don't kiss her._ _Don't kiss her_.

_But I want to._

_What happened to baby steps, Quinn? You shouldn't do this._

_But she obviously wants me to. And God I want to too._

_You just said you were friends!_

_Maybe we should be friends with benefits._

_You're unbelievable._

_Thank you. I'm going to give her an unbelievably amazing kiss._

_No, stop! You're going slowly for her remember. All you're going to do is scare her off if you get too deep too quickly. You will lose her, Quinn._

_I don't want to lose her._

_No you don't._

_What do I do?_

_Back off. Now! _

I use the doorway for leverage and push myself away from her so fast I almost lose balance. I stumble back a couple of steps and try and regain some composure. I run a shaky hand through my hair and breathe fresh air, only to stop breathing when I realise I can still smell her. I glance back to her in the doorway, she looks bewildered, disappointed but still very turned on.

"I'm sorry. I-I have to go. I just remembered I need to do something," _Yeah, invent invisible nose plugs._

"Oh…okay. Yeah, sure. You go do whatever," she looks positively crestfallen, I want to go hug her but my self control is hanging on by a thread. "Thanks for the lift again."

"Anytime, Rachel. Promise me you'll call for whatever, taxi service, compliment hotline, an engaging verbal argument, whatever." She chuckles despite herself and I'm glad I made her genuinely smile before I leave.

"I promise,"

"Good," I flash her an honest smile, "See you later, Rach,"

"Bye, Quinn," I wink at her before I turn back to my car. I peel out of her driveway, a small smile on my face. First baby step accomplished. Friendship. 

* * *

><p>"Hey Mum, I'm home!"<p>

"I'm in the kitchen!" I drop my bag in the hall and head to the kitchen. My mother is busying herself preparing a sandwich, I hop up on the counter top and start munching on some extra cucumber. "So how was your day? Did you see Rachel?" she's trying to act casual but I can tell she's excited.

"I did," I tease, acting nonchalant.

"And…?" I can see her frustration and anticipation battling on her face.

"And there is definitely a bond between us,"

"Yes! I knew it, I could see it in your eyes last night whenever her name was mentioned," she shoves her sandwich aside and grabs a tall stool to sit next to me with rapt attention. I eye the forgotten sandwich and wonder if she's going to eat that, I really am quite hungry. She sees where my gaze has fallen and distractedly hands me the sandwich, "Here," I smile gratefully and take a large bite. "Tell me everything. What do you feel? Have you had sex yet?" Food flies out of my mouth in an explosive choke. I splutter and try to draw raggedy breaths between coughs.

"Mum!" I squeak with no air, my eyes red and watery.

"It's a legitimate question, dear. You know when your father and I first-,"

"Oh my God, Mum! I can't hear this!" I chuck the sandwich down, suddenly not so hungry for it after it tried to kill me.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, it's perfectly natural at this point to have intense erotic urges-"

"AAAAH LALA LA LA LA!" I clamp my hands over my ears and try and drown her out before I suffer any permanent mental trauma. She swats my hands away with a mildly scolding look.

"Very mature, Quinn,"

"Listen, Mum. We haven't had sex, and I don't think we are going to for sometime,"

"Why's that? Does she not have the same urges?"

"No, I'm pretty sure she does considering her body's reaction around me, but I have no idea to what extent this will effect her and I don't think its fair on her to jump into sex when I'm assuming sex will only make the bond stronger. Correct?" My mother nods thoughtfully. "So I'm going to make sure we stay as friends until I earn her trust and we can one day sit down and I can tell her everything and hopefully, if she doesn't run for the hills straight away, she can make an informed decision about what she's getting into."

"But sweetie, you don't have the luxury of choice," she comments worriedly.

"I know but that doesn't mean I get to take away her right to choose as well." My mother looks sad but oddly proud in that moment.

"Now _that's_ very mature, Quinn," she smiles weakly and leans up and kisses my forehead, "I just hope for both your sakes that you have exceptional will power because it will be incredibly difficult for you to resist her."

"Don't I know it. Quick question though. Is it normal for me to be able to um smell her? Like well, just _her?" _I hope my mother will get my meaning without spelling it out.

"Oh yes, quite normal. You will be able to pick up her scent through a crowd, and the sent of her arousal will be like an aphrodisiac to you."

"Great," I grumble, hopping down off the counter and heading to the basement.

"Where are you going, Quinnie?"

"To invent some invisible nose plugs," I hear her laughing mockingly at me until the basement door closes behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N – Just a quick note. Quinn's name back on her home planet was Quinnéowyn, pronounced like Quinn-eh-o-win, say it five times fast and that's what I hear in my head when I wrote it.

While I'm at it, thank you so much for reading and thank you for all the reviews, they seriously made me smile. On with the story. 

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

Nightmares and Good Company

Friday is dull. Whoever said Friday is the best day of the week was lying. I'm bored and it's the end of the day and not once have I had the chance to see Rachel, other than a passing smile and glance in the hallway. I haven't even had the chance to try out my super cool invisible nose plugs. I ended up just fiddling with them all day seeing if they worked against the rancid stench of the football player's armpits, and thankfully they did, they also worked against Sue Sylvester's diet shake and Friday's mystery meat. You can't even tell I'm wearing them other than me mouth breathing a little more than usual, and my voice already has a nasal twinge to it so you couldn't tell when I spoke. And if anyone could tell I could pass it off as a cold. They were perfect.

Except for the slight drawback of them being invisible and my tendency to misplace them. Other than that they were perfect and I now have a pocket dedicated to the nose plugs alone.

But alas, no Rachel. Not even time for a 'hello, how are you, Rachel?' or an 'I like your unicorn sweater today, Rachel' or a 'your legs you so damn good in that skirt I want to take you up against the locker, Rachel'. No nothing, nadda, zilch, zero, zip. Today sucked.

I slam the door of the Aston hard and drive home sulking and disappointed. If they were giving out awards today for best sulking and disappointed driving style I would win, I would also win the best sulking and disappointed entrance into a house award, and so on and so forth. Suffice to say I wasn't feeling too peppy.

I shrugged off my parent's questions with reassuringly nonchalant answers, busy day, tired etc etc and excused myself to bed. Only bed wasn't actually where I was going. I decided the only thing that would cheer me up now, other than seeing Rachel obviously, was beating up bad guys. Now that it was dark I donned my super suit and bounded off too find some entertainment.

By the way, finding out I had super powers on this planet was really cool. Thanks to the lower gravity of the Earth compared to Caelum, my adapted Caelen physique allows me vast strength and speed on this planet. I can move so fast that time seems to slow, my fast processing mind easily being able to keep up with my movements. I'm strong enough to pick up a car if I was so inclined. Then there is also my natural agility, the fighting skills I picked up being in the war, the naturally more enhanced senses that Caelens have compared to humans.

Now I'm not saying I'm Superman, I can't defy gravity entirely…yet. Bullets don't ricochet of by chest unfortunately and laser beams don't shoot out of my eyes, that's just silly. Think of me as a cross between Batman with all the gadgets (when I finish them) and Spiderman without the webs. Well at the moment, just webless Spiderman…but that's still pretty cool.

So I'm an alien ex-soldier on Earth with super abilities. Naturally, secret crime fighting was the logical choice. Did my parents really think I was going to sit at home watching TV like all the other teenagers?

Granted, my crime fighting is quite restricted to the drunks and petty thieves of Lima, but I'm hoping to branch out a bit once I've got my flight suit.

I'm hopping from roof top to roof top, scanning the streets for any suspicious activity. Its Friday night there must be something going on in this exceedingly dull town. Its times like this I miss New York, over there I would have to choose the most urgent case to deal with first. There was certainly no shortage of criminal activity, my nights were at least kept busy.

It is two hours later and not a hint of even a pick pocket, or illegal parking. I'm lying down on the edge of a building, my arms behind my head, staring up at the stars, thinking of home when I hear it. A faint cry. I sit up and track my eyes to the direction of the sound. The cry comes again from across the street. The street is deserted so I jump down from my perch and slink quickly across the road. I hear it again but it's coming from above me. I look up at the tree I'm standing under.

_Oh you have got to be kidding me._ A cat, stuck in a tree. This is what my crime fighting career has come down to, rescuing cats from trees.

"Of all the clichéd, pathetic superhero activities…alright you stupid cat, I'll get you down." I scale the branches effortlessly and approach the cat slowly. "Come on, kitty, I won't hurt you. Come on," I sing song softly, "just a little closer, that's it…aaand gotcha,"

A smash of glass echoes down the street, followed the wailing of a car alarm. Car theft. That's more like it. I hop down and set the cat free just as I hear a tires squeal. I sprint at full speed, streets and buildings blurring around me as I gain on the stolen car. I leap back onto the roof tops and get ahead of the vehicle. The large Escalade is being driven erratically by the panicking thief. I devise a plan based off some quick calculations of speed and distance, I have to time this right. I jump into an alley, that the thief will have to drive past, and onto a small pipe that stretches between the two buildings either side of the allay. I swing around it again and again, building up momentum like a trained trapezes artist, and count the swings and count the milliseconds. Just as the car approaches I make my final swing and propel myself off the pipe. I cut through the air like an arrow, straight through the broken car window, barging the driver aside and quickly grabbing the wheel. My movements are too quick for the shocked and disorientated thief, as I chuck him into the passenger seat.

I bring the vehicle to a stop. The thief, who looks no more than eighteen in baggy clothes, finally registers what's happened.

"What the fuck are you doing, man? This is my fucking ride!" He pulls a gun from his pocket. I snap his wrist back, grab the gun, dismantle it and chuck it out the car window before he can register the pain in his wrist.

"What the fuck are you?" he screams, genuinely terrified, staring at my expressionless mask while cradling his injured wrist.

"Your worst nightmare," I hiss and smash his forehead into the dashboard, knocking him out cold.

I tie him up in the car with some cord I find in the boot and make an anonymous phone call to the police before heading home for the night.

I don't feel as cheery as I thought I would. Friday sucked. 

* * *

><p>I'm tossing and turning in bed. Memories of my past life are scrolling beneath my eyelids. These are my nightmares, my memories being more horrifying then anything my mind can come up with.<p>

_I'm five Earth years old. My long golden hair splays behind me as I run through fields with others my age._

"_Okay we're here," Toric, one of the oldest boys in our group, yells in Caelish. We are far away from home, further then we were ever supposed to go. Right on the borders of the forbidden land._

_Everyone stops and gathers their breath. We huddle round and me and two of the other younger ones, Caylawin and Gorzen, glance nervously at the older members._

"_If you three want to be apart of our club you have to pass the initiation," Toric continues, "You have to prove that you are brave and fearless if you want to go on adventures with us." I want nothing more than to be a member and explore the mountains and forests with them without our parents with us. Yes it was dangerous and yes we could get in lots of trouble but that was part of the appeal, plus we were very smart young children._

"_Are you ready for this?" Tamia asks. We three nod excitedly._

"_To prove your bravery you all have to stand on the edge…" Toric pauses for dramatic effect, "of Shadow Land." We all gasp in fear._

"_H-how long for?" I ask shakily._

"_We can't tell you that, only that one of us will eventually come get you. If you run before that time, you will not be a member. Do you all understand?" We all nod again, a lot less certain this time._

_Shadow Land was the entire other half of our planet. Our planet was divided in two, the light side and the dark side. The planet revolves on its axis so slowly that it takes exactly the same time to rotate once as it does to orbit our sun once. So much like the Earth's Moon, which only shows one face to the Earth, our planet only shows one face to our sun. The other side never sees light; there is no night and day, only eternal darkness on one side and eternal light on the other side. Caelens evolved on the bright side of the planet naturally, but there are stories of another race, the Raegas, that live in the Shadow Land. They are said to be barbarians, cannibals, extremely aggressive and very territorial. They don't possess the intelligence that Caelens do, they have no schools or government, only vaguely follow pack law. They don't ever come into the light, rumour as it they can't, but stories come from the few brave Caelens that have ventured into the dark, and the fewer that have escaped with their lives._

_We have come so far to the edge of our land that the sun has almost disappeared below the horizon behind us, the last rays bathing the hill side in front of us with a warm glow. On the other side of the hill is the forbidden land._

_Toric walks us up the hillside, as we reach the peak we all gaze down at the darkness before us. It's a volcanic wasteland, a network of collapsed magma chambers carve the land. Jagged rocks create eerie shapes against the darkness. Nothing grows, the land is barren, although the landscape terrifies me, I've never seen anything like it, I try to steady my fears on the belief that nothing could ever live here and survive._

"_You see that ledge down there?" Toric points to a small ledge two thirds down the hillside in the darkness. "Stand there and wait till we come get you. Remember, you need to be quiet."_

"_I thought you said on the edge, why can't we stay here?" Gorzen asks desperately, I can see him shaking already._

"_Its part of the test, we all did it, just stay still and quiet. Be brave," with that he leaves. Caylawin and I glance at each other and start to descend. _

"_You can't be seriously thinking about going through with this?" Gorzen whispers harshly at us from the top of the slope. "We can't go in there, we will be killed and eaten, or…or worse. We should all just refuse right now." I turn back to him._

"_If we refuse we won't become members. Besides it can't be that bad if all of them have done it," I shrug and catch up with Caylawin. As we step onto the ledge she reaches for my hand in the darkness. She squeezes tightly, her hand is clammy and trembles weakly. I squeeze back and stare out into the darkness before us. The stillness is eerie, there are no birds or even the smallest insect to be seen. The only sound I can hear is the hammering of my heart and Caylawin's quick, shallow breaths. Suddenly rocks tumble behind us and we both gasp in shock as Gorzen slides down to our perch. We both scold him with a glare and Caylawin holds a finger to her lips. He looks apologetic but frightened as he takes his place beside us. _

_Time seeps on as we stare out, and I have no idea how long we've been here. Rocks tumble and echo occasionally in the blackness. Tricks of shadow have my mind imagining figures in the darkness. I hear Gorzen quietly sobbing next to me. I take his hand as he wheezes and shakes. A rock falls close by and we snap our heads in the direction, movement whips past one of the opens chasms. Something large and pale in the darkness._

"_Did you see that, Quinn__é__owyn?" Gorzen squeaks, I whip my hand to his mouth to silence him as I examine the area for more movement. My ears attuned but my eyes struggling to make out anything._

_Again a sudden flash of movement, closer this time. The distinct smell of urine assaults my nose and I turn to Gorzen, I look down to see a wet patch flowing down his leg. He's petrified. Shaking his head frantically, he looks ready to bolt. I look him dead in the eye, _Don't. Move. _I mouth to him. Whatever's out there may ignore us if we stay still and quiet. Scatterings of rock falls echo more distinctly then before._

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Gorzen whispers desperately before he scrambles back up the slope. There are more shapes moving now, darting between rocks, climbing up walls. Threatening cries reverberate, some deep like baboons, others whine like foxes. Caylawin turns to me with tears in her eyes._

"_I can't do this," and then she's frantically scurrying upwards. _

_I'm on my own now. Just a small figure of a child standing amidst the moving darkness. The beastly cries growing louder, grouping and harmonizing until the calls are the same echoing primal howls. I stand my ground summoning all my courage, _I won't run, I won't run, I won't run, _I chant in my mind like a mantra. _

_The cries grow in a crescendo, then stop all at once. The figures still and blend, as if part of the landscape, except for one. The closest to me. Its outline resembles that of an adult Caelen, but it moves like an animal stalking its pray. I can't see its eyes but I know its watching me, they all are. It coils low momentarily and emits a wailing cry, before bursts into a full sprint on hands and feet towards me._

_I run. I claw and scramble and climb as fast as my small legs will carry me. I can hear it behind me, growling and panting. It's clearing better distance then me, but I'm still ahead, just. As I reach the summit I throw myself over the edge into the glowing sunlight, rolling down the slope brutally. _

_A blood curdling scream sounds, followed by the heavy sound of a body hitting the ground behind me. More screams are heard around me, but these I recognise as the screams of the other children. I manage to stop my fall and look back for sign of the creature pursuing me. There, rolling down the hillside, whipping and thrashing its limbs, wailing in what sounds like agony, is the beast from the darkness. And my very first look at a Raega. As it rolls to a stop a few feet from me, it moans and wails as it frantically tries to shield its body from the light. I can hear a disturbing sizzling sound as I see its ghostly white skin blister, burn and blacken. The form is quite distinctly female, naked other than long dark, matted head of hair, and barbaric, cruel and painful looking piercings of carved bone distorting its figure. All I can do is stare at it horrified. _

_It thrashes out and tries to claw at me, but I'm out of reach. Its mouth snaps at me with pointed and jagged yellow teeth. I meet its eyes; they are large, fully black orbs that pierce me with hatred and pain. Its thrashes weaken and its cries quieten to low moans, before they eventually stop altogether. It's limp, still and no longer breathing._

_The quick footsteps of the other children rush towards me. They gasp and gape at the creature at my feet. _

"_What is that?"_

"_It's a Raega."_

"_Is it dead?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Quinn__é__owyn killed a Raega!" _

"_It wasn't me," I mumble still not being able to tear my eyes away from its black lifeless ones, "it was the sun."_

_Suddenly the form jerks…_and I bolt awake in bed, drenched in sweat. 

* * *

><p>It's Saturday afternoon and I'm in my lab in the basement. I've been here since the early hours of the morning when I awoke from my nightmare. I'm finally building a prototype of my suit and it's a wonderful distraction from my disturbing memories. I'm intricately melding the artificial neuro pathways into the lining of the suit and connecting them to the micro molecular manipulators on the outside of the suit…it's the sciency stuff that makes the suit work.<p>

Beside me on my desk is today's newspaper. The front page story is me…or rather, a mysterious masked vigilante. There is a fairly accurate coloured sketch of my mask, although I feel the expression conveyed through the mask is one of exaggerated meanness. I considered my masked expression to be rather neutral, and I think they made my nose a little big… Anyway the story is from several eye witness accounts over the past few months, i.e. from the criminals I've beaten up and left for the police to deal with. The statements are so varied and contradictory that the author of the article has quite rightly put a sceptical spin on it. But the gist of it is that a masked assailant of unknown gender has been taking the law into their own hands and has been using violent methods to incapacitate criminals. So far the Lima police haven't made an official statement but they did hint that if such a person existed, they didn't condone the behaviour.

I really don't mind the press coverage, I knew it was bound to happen eventually especially in a town this small, I was actually quite surprised that I got away with it in New York for a whole year before moving here. I guess in New York vague stories like this would be lost in the fray with all the other activity that takes place in a city that never sleeps. Apparently I'm the biggest story to hit Lima, Ohio since the controversial installation of speed ramps in the main town centre. I get the feeling Lima has a lot of slow news days.

I'm not too worried about my super abilities being exposed because I don't think anyone would believe the criminals that are trying to save face by describing me as a 6ft 5" muscular hulk of a man with super powers. I love plausible deniability.

My phone beeps beside me and I thank my steady hands for not doing disastrous damage to the suit when I'm startled by the noise. I carefully place my tools down and reach for my phone.

**R: So does this friend service you provide extend to the weekends? – Rachel x**

I think the grin currently residing on my face would be described as stupidly giddy.

_Q: No I'm sorry this service is only available between 9am and 5pm Monday to Friday. Please try again during the allotted times ;) x_

**R: In which case I would like to complain about my limited service :P x**

_Q: I wouldn't bother the paperwork is endless ;) x_

**R: I've got time x**

_Q: Lol, what can I do for you, Rach? __ x_

**R: I seem to be suffering from boredom x**

_Q: Oh no, I heard that was going around…you're not contagious are you? X_

**R: Your concern is touching :P but I certainly hope not, I was relying on you to help me find a cure x**

_Q: Hmm…let me have a look…Bubonic Plague tablets, Ebola vaccine, eye drops, hemorrhoid cream…nope no boredom cure :/ x_

**R: Lol, oh no I seem to have come to the wrong person, you're not helpful at all :P x**

_Q: Wait...I may know of a remedy…some may consider it an old wives tale, but I heard that good company and an activity of some kind can help alleviate symptoms x _

**R: That certainly sounds like an old wives tale, but at this point I'm willing to try anything. I don't suppose you know where I would acquire those things? X**

_Q: Well I'm reading in this friendship contract that I am expected to provide good company, so I guess that's the first bit sorted. Now we have to think of an activity x_

**R: Good company sounds awfully important, are you sure you're up for the challenge? X**

_Q: I'm offended by that implication, my good company will blow your mind ;) x_

Perhaps that may have been a little too flirty.

**R: Lol, fine you're hired. I expect you round mine in an hour and we will find an activity we can both participate in ;) x**

My mind is officially in the gutter. I have no idea how to respond to that without hinting at the very naked activities that I'm thinking of. _Friends, Quinn, friends!_

_Crap. I'm in trouble already._

Operation: backtracking.

_Q: I will be there…to the friendmobile! X_

_Q: Sorry that was lame __ x_

**R: Lol. Yes it was, extremely lame x**

Success! Sexual tension dispelled with lameness. _Well done, Quinn. You look like an idiot._

_Oh._

_Bring it back, bring it back! Oh forget it there is no way to make a full recovery from that one._

_Q: I have to erase your memory of the last minute and a half. You need to forget that I was momentarily catastrophically uncool x _

**R: Lol. No don't, I like your more than momentary uncoolness, it means we have more in common. Can't wait for later ;) xxx**

And we are back, sort of, I think I significantly bruised my reputation. 

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel's POV<strong>

I can't believe I just invited Quinn round. I don't know if I'm more panicked or excited…panicked, definitely panicked. I should never again be trusted to be left alone with my phone while thinking about Quinn Fabray…which is all the time. Damn her for giving me her number, how could I possibly resist the temptation. If I thought I was thinking about her a lot before, it was nothing compared to how much I'm thinking about her now. Especially after Thursday afternoon, when I swear on Barbra's life she almost kissed me. This isn't just me being overdramatic or reading too much into it, there is no other explanation. She was so close to me, and staring at my lips with a look that can only be described as hungry. And I was _so_ ready for it, my eyes were practically closed in anticipation. I was about to kiss Quinn Fabray, the girl of my dreams; who is not only gorgeous and smart as I previously known her as but also, funny, playful, witty, charming and sweet. I had fallen harder for her and I was so damn close.

But then she pulled away, and didn't just pull away, she physically threw herself away from me. I don't know why. She at least didn't look repulsed or anything like that, just startled and guilty like she suddenly realised she was about to do something she shouldn't. Still, I felt like a kid who had been given a toy on Christmas day and then was told they couldn't play with it.

I was desperately disappointed. And I was further disappointed when I barely saw her yesterday. All I got was a smile as we rushed past each other in the hallway. Granted it was a beaming smile that left me flushed and giddy with a fluttering stomach, but I was hoping for at least a full conversation and a chance to flirt with her a bit so I could gage how much she flirted back and figure out whether or not I was losing my mind.

I apparently couldn't wait the whole weekend for another chance to see her, hence why I'm currently panicked and running around the house like a squirrel on Speed.

"Barbra Streisand isn't coming to our house is she?" My Daddy, Hiram who is a short balding man with glasses, joked from his position on the sofa behind a newspaper.

"Don't joke about that Daddy. I. Would. Die. I would be so wholly unprepared for her visit that I wouldn't even get the chance to list my favourite performances of hers and give her my notes on a Funny Girl revival before I hyperventilated into an early tragic grave. I wouldn't live to become her greatest protégé. So don't joke about that Daddy." I say sternly.

"My apologies, sweetheart. It's just that you're incessant tidying is bordering on manic…and will you leave that picture alone? You've re-straightened it six times already," he says exasperatedly.

"Hrmph, well the frame is wonky it doesn't look right,"

"What does it matter? Is this girl royalty or something?"

"Well judging from the expensive looking Aston Martin that just pulled up in the driveway I would think she could be," my Dad, Leroy, a tall dark skinned man with a kind face, muses from near the window.

"Oh my God! She's here, she's here," I'm having a melt down, "everyone just stay calm. Daddy stand up, no, sit down! Dad, hold this," I shove a random vase into his arms.

"Do I have to?"

"I don't know, whatever. Just do something."

"How about I get the door?"

"Yes! No! I'll do it, you two just act normal."

"We'll try, honey," I can tell Daddy is mocking me. They are both obviously trying to belly their laughter. I ignore them and straighten my blue poker-dot dress. I count backwards slowly from five and open the door.

Quinn is a vision with an easy smile and casual designer jeans and a form fitting shirt. I gawp momentarily at her, which is silly because I've seen her more dressed up than this but it was something about Quinn standing on my doorstep smiling at me as if there was nowhere else she would rather be, that has me speechless.

"Hey, Rachel," she says happily. I snap myself out of my Quinn-daze and smile back.

"Hey, Quinn. You're just in time, I seem to have taken a turn for the worst. I have resorted to house cleaning," I say with mock horror.

"My God this is serious. I'm glad you contacted me, this is the worst case of boredom I've heard of and won't resolve by itself," she plays along easily. "Although at least you have been productive, I'm sure your fathers appreciate the clean house," she peers round me in acknowledgment of my hovering fathers.

"Well we were at first," my Dad replies in good humour, "but she's been stuck on a loop for the past hour cleaning the same things over and over again. Please make her stop," he says in an exaggerated mock plea. Quinn laughs, I glare playfully at my fathers.

"Oh Rachel, what have you done to your poor fathers?" I hear them snicker behind me.

"Nothing they don't deserve, I'm sure," I say pointedly at them. Suddenly I remember my manners. "Sorry, please come in, Quinn," she nods in thanks and I usher her into the house. She approaches my fathers with her hand out in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr and Mr Berry, I'm Quinn," she says as she shakes each of their hands.

"Pleasures all ours, Quinn," my Daddy replies with an impressed smile, "and please call us Leroy and Hiram," he gestures to my Dad then himself, "'Mr Berry' may get confusing," he says good naturedly.

Quinn smiles, "Agreed. I was worried for a minute that I might have to preface your names with some kind of identifier,"

"What like tall Mr Berry and short Mr Berry?" My Daddy muses.

"Well I considered it for a moment but I wouldn't want you thinking I'm Heightist, particularly Rachel," my fathers laugh, I glare playfully at Quinn. I'm doing a lot of glaring recently. "I was thinking more like one and two."

"Ah but who would be one and who would be two?" Dad questions.

"I would have to let you discuss that amongst yourselves," she says diplomatically.

"Oo I don't know, that could get messy," he jokes.

"Well then I should thank you for saving me from being an instigator of domestic violence, Leroy and Hiram," she smiles charmingly. They laugh, my Dad wraps her in a one-armed hug.

"I like this one, Rachel. You can keep her," Quinn giggles.

"Oh thank you, Pa," I seemed to have adopted a Southern-Bell accent, but I will roll with it, "I promise to take her out for walks, and feed her everyday-"

"More than once a day I hope," Quinn interjects thoroughly amused.

"Hush now child, know your place," I scorn playfully.

"Yes, ma'am," There's something about the way her voice drops a little and the slight smirk on her lips, that makes a pleasant shiver run through me. My eyes meet her dark hazel ones and the air between us seems to crackle with sexual tension. I can't be mistaken, after all it's the look in _her_ eyes that is making my blood pool decidedly lower. My Daddy clears his throat and we both snap our gazes to him.

"Speaking about food; would you like to stay for dinner, Quinn?"

"As long as Rachel is happy with it," she throws a questioning glance in my direction. I nod a little too eagerly, "then I would love to, thank you, Hiram."

"Lovely, it's always nice to have good company round for dinner," Quinn smirks at me triumphantly, referring to our earlier texts, I whack her arm lightly and roll my eyes. I catch my Dad staring at us with a hint of a knowing smile. "We'll call you for dinner, girls," he's physically dragging my Dad out of the room behind him. When they're out of sight but not earshot, I can hear my Dad gossiping.

"Did you see all that?" he asks excitedly. My Daddy responds but it's muffled as they walk away.

I turn back to Quinn awkwardly; she's still staring in the direction my fathers went and looks a million miles away. "I'm sorry about them," I'm a little embarrassed and I'm right back to being nervous again. She brings her attention back to me with a quizzical smile.

"Why? Your Dads are great, I just hope they still like me once they get to know me," she trails off again looking thoughtful.

"Well considering your natural charm I think they will only love you more,"

"Natural charm?" That perfectly sculptured eyebrow is arched in a curious teasing manner. I love and hate that eyebrow. It's a perfectly poised expression and it's both sexy and fluster inducing.

"Are you fishing for compliments, Quinn?" I refused to be flustered by a facial feature.

"From you? Yes," But that doesn't stop me being flustered by her words, her intense eyes and breathy voice. I think she enjoys this, reading my reactions to her. The way she studies me makes me feel naked and vulnerable, but the masochist in me loves the idea of being naked and vulnerable for _her_. _God, what is wrong with me?_

"Well I just gave you one,"

"I only get one?"

"True compliments are spur of the moment after sudden inspiration; you will have to wait till the next time that happens." Her studying gaze grows more curious, her eyes sparkle playfully.

"What about compliments that are given after receiving one? For example if I was to say 'you look beautiful in that dress', would you then be inclined to return a compliment?" I try to hide my blush because I know she meant it,

"I may be inclined but then the nature of the compliment returned must be similar to the nature of the compliment given. In your example you commented on my appearance, so I would return a pleasant comment on your appearance rather than say a more meaningful compliment on your character. Which would you prefer?" The smile she gives me is megawatt, no scratch that, it's gigawatt. I may have to invest in some sunglasses before I suffer permanent damage to my retinas from the brightness.

"I love the way your mind works. You are by far the most interesting person I've ever met," I smile at her answer in the form of a spur of the moment compliment.

"Well then I'm inclined to say that you are the most enigmatic and intriguing person I've ever met,"

"Would the mystery be ruined if we got to know one another?"

"I've got the feeling that I'm never going to be done getting to know you, but I wouldn't mind getting a start on it now," I grow bolder and step more into her personal space and slowly bring my hand to hers and interlace our fingers. I look down at the connection as the familiar comfortable warmth and tingles spread from my hand over my entire body. The touch feels more right than anything I've ever felt before. The way our hands meld so perfectly and naturally…I feel kind of silly thinking something so clichéd, but it's like we are meant to do this. She looks down at our conjoined hands too, her thumb starts stroking over mine gently. Such a simple gesture, yet it feels intensely intimate when I'm so hyper aware of her.

I sense her gaze shift again. My eyes snap to hers when I feel the free hand stroke some stray strands of hair away from my face and behind my ear. She does this reverently. Her eyes follow the path of her hand until they land back on mine.

"I'm glad, because I really want to know you." The way she says this makes me think she's not just referring to hobbies, likes and dislikes, but knowing me inside and out, mind, body and soul. My treacherous mind drifts to how badly I want her to know my body. I want her to play it like a finely tuned instrument. I want her to…I just want _her_. She may be restraining herself for whatever reason but I know she wants me too, so I am determined to find a way to seduce Quinn Fabray.

"Well you can start by learning what activities will keep me entertained. That is what you're here for, yes?" I smile coyly at her before turning and dragging her by our still conjoined hands up the stairs to my bedroom. 

* * *

><p><strong>Quinn POV<strong>

_Oh crap. _I had not anticipated this. I hope we are not going where I think we're going.

"Wait, are we going to your bedroom?"

"Yes,"

"As in, the room with your bed in it?"

"Yes that is usually where I keep it, hence the name,"

"What about the living room?"

"My Dads will want to use it,"

"Or outside? Lots of stuff we can do outside, in the nice fresh air,"

"It's started raining," So it has. _Well crap_.

"I'm merely suggesting that maybe the reason you were bored in the first place was because you were stuck in your room with nothing to do. So if we change that variable we might be closer to curing your boredom,"

"Yes but before I was on my own in my bedroom. Now that I have you with me, I'm sure we can think of things to do in my bedroom," _I can think of lots of things. None of which we should be doing_. I subtly readjust my nose plugs that have been serving me well. I can't smell her scent but I still have an issue with how much I like her, how good she looks in that cute poker dot dress, and how flirtatious our conversations have become. Aphrodisiac scent aside, I'm still hopelessly attracted to her. Being in a room with a bed in it is going to test my self control to the limits.

She opens her bedroom door, the one with a cute gold star with her name on it, and pulls me into the room before shutting the door behind me. I swallow hard. I try to distract myself from her close proximity and our still melded hands, that for some reason I can't bring myself to let go of, and look around the room. I immediately recognise the yellow and pink walls, the Broadway posters on the walls. I glance out of the window to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough the tree outside is the same tree I was perched on when I made an impromptu detour on a night of crime fighting. I still feel like a weird voyeur for finding myself there, but I guess it shows that even since the migraine induced meeting in the corridor on Tuesday, I've been drawn to her. At least now I have permission for looking at her room.

"I like your room," I really do. I may have only known her a few days but this room just screams Rachel Berry, and I instantly like it because I like her. It feels oddly comforting being surrounded by Rachel's things and I can already feel myself relax from some tension I didn't know I was holding. I take in everything from her elliptical in the corner, her stuffed animals, her boxes of organised sheet music, her trophies from singing, acting and dance competitions, happy photos of her and her Dads, her music and DVDs until I come to rest on her collection of playbills.

"You've seen all these musicals?" I'm in disbelief. She grins proudly at me.

"Yes and I know the songs from all of them by heart,"

"You are amazing," I say absently.

"Thank you," she sounds shy, "that makes you and my Dads the only ones who think so,"

"What about the Glee club?"

"I think they just tolerate me,"

"Are they blind and deaf?"

"No they acknowledge my talent, but I can be…difficult to work with. I like I said before I'm ambitious and I like to win, and I know that I'm the most talented and dedicated member of the Glee club so I believe our best chance at winning competitions is for me to be singing the solos…all of them. I know it doesn't make me a very good team player but I have difficulty relinquishing things that I feel I deserve to others that may be less deserving. You probably think I'm a horrible person."

"No I don't," I speak so quickly I think I startled her slightly, "I think if the others want solos they need to step up to the plate and take them from you with talent. You're happy with fair game right?" She nods eagerly.

"Absolutely I would be more than happy to engage in healthy competition, and if someone else is better then they should be the one to give us the edge in the show choir competitions."

"Then they should be happy with that. Oh, maybe you could help them by giving them some tips to improve and support them to at least give them a sporting chance,"

"I've tried they don't want to hear it from me. Like I said I talk a lot and I think they do their best to ignore me most of the time," She looks so sad in that moment, it looks like a wound that runs deep. I want to hold her and make all the pain go away, so I do. I release her hand, which I was _still_ holding, and wrap both my arms around her and pull her into me. She's shocked at first but quickly relaxes into me, snaking her one arm around my waist and the other around my neck as she buries her head into the crook of my neck. _This feels perfect. _I feel her inhale deeply with her nose nuzzled against my neck, and I wish I could do the same. I think fleetingly about taking off these nose plugs but I figure it's really too risky.

"Then it's their loss," I say softly against her, "You're the star, Rachel, and you can shine as brightly as you want." Okay that may have been cheesy but it was worth it to feel her smile and giggle softly against me.

"That was cheesy,"

"It was, but you liked it,"

"I did," she admits while pulling away slightly to meet my eyes. Her other arm moves to join the one around my neck, and I realise I'm in trouble again. She's biting her lower lip as she looks at mine and I can't help staring at the action and wishing I could bite and suck on that lip myself. _You need to try harder than this, Quinn._

_Just a little kiss. Friends do that right?_

_No they don't, and friends don't think about throwing other friends onto beds and kissing every available inch of skin either._

_But her shoulders look so kissable, so much soft tanned skin. I bet she tastes good._

_Quinn!_

_Urgh! Fine!_

With a great deal of will power I pull away from her and take a step back. She has that disappointed look again but this time it's mixed with a frustrated eye roll.

"How about a movie?" I throw out suddenly, "I feel my knowledge of musicals is lacking, you should educate me."

"Okay," she seems to brighten at this idea, "what shall we start with?"

"You tell me,"

"Well my favourite is Funny Girl, but everyone has seen that,"

"I haven't," I shrug and she whips her focus onto me like I just said a swear word in church.

"You haven't!" She looks positively shocked.

"I've seen Chicago and Wicked, that's about it. Considering I used to live in New York you would think I would have seen more."

"You used to live in New York?" She is staring at me like she doesn't know what information to process first.

"It's where we were before we came to Lima, we had an apartment in Manhattan not far from central park," Her jaw drops, it looks kind of comical.

"You…you've…I….just…I've…That's it we're watching Funny Girl, and you are going to tell me everything about New York," she orders as she marches over to her DVD collection and puts on Funny Girl. I start to make my way to the desk chair in the corner.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I was just-"

"Sit!" She points at the bed. I sigh but do as I'm told and rest against the headboard at the edge of the bed. She plonks herself on the other side with the remote, then pulls me into the middle of the bed. She rearranges the pillows until she is comfortably snuggled against my side and clicks play. _This is going to be a long movie_.

Every so often during the movie she would press pause and question me about New York, things to do, places to go, hidden gems. And I would tell her about all my favourite spots and regale her with funny anecdotes on day to day life. When she wasn't listening to me with rapt attention her focus was solely on the screen, mouthing her favourite lines or singing out songs with Barbra. I would just lean against the headboard and watch her. I felt so utterly content, and for a while I wasn't worrying about mating bonds and having to control certain urges…as much, I was sitting there enjoying the feeling of falling for this girl. Beside me was this beautiful, talented, endearing diva passionately belting out show tunes and I was falling head over heels and wasn't even bothering to try and catch myself.

As the credits roll after the emotional end performance, she is snuggled back into my side, absently playing with the hem of my shirt. I stare at the ceiling and try and ignore the way her hand grazes my abdomen and sends little shocks of arousal straight to my core. I swallow thickly and try to keep my breathing regulated.

"Do you miss it? New York?" Her voice is soft.

"Sometimes,"

"Do you want to go back?" I can't quite figure out her tone, she sounds almost half hopeful and half afraid of the answer.

"Maybe eventually, but at the moment I'm happy in Lima because there is this nice girl here that I like,"

"It's not Santana is it?" Her question is so surprising and her voice is so bitter that I burst out laughing.

"What?" I manage between giggles, "Where did that come from?" She doesn't look as amused as I do, as she props herself up on her elbow.

"It's just in the hallway the other day, you too seemed kind of…close," I giggle again, but decide to tease her a bit because I quite like the idea of jealous Rachel.

"So not only were you avoiding me, you were spying on me also?"

"I wasn't…that's not…never mind," she flops onto her back with a huff.

"Okay," I shrug easily, knowing that she won't be able to drop the topic for long.

"So are you going to answer my question?" I knew it.

"What question?" I ask innocently.

"About you and Santana,"

"What about me and Santana?" She whacks me with a discarded pillow.

"You know what,"

"No I don't know _what,_" I punctuate it with a whack from my own pillow. She wallops me harder obviously frustrated.

"What were you two talking about?"

"It's none of your business," I hit back.

She gets up onto her knees to get more force behind her next blow, "Yes it is!"

I mirror her position, "No it _isn't!_" I punctuate with a forceful whip of my pillow. This is by no means, the best argument I've come up with, I'm not even focusing on what we're saying. The conversation isn't in our words, we're talking through pillows…pillow talk, if you will. Right now my pillow is saying 'play with me', her pillow is saying something like 'surrender to me', or occasionally just 'argh!'

"Tell me!" She growls as she clobbers me over the head.

"No!" I slug back with the same force. Her eyes harden, and I know what's coming. It's what I was playing for; an all out pillow fight. She growls and it becomes a free-for-all. We pelt each other with thumps and thwacks and slams and swats. She dodges, I dart, she ducks, I weave, she grapples, I struggle, I tackle, she squirms. Sure I could easily get the upper hand but what would be the fun in that?

She tackles me round the waist and tries to throw me off balance onto the bed. I keel over after an acceptable amount of resistance, and she proceeds to nudge me off the bed while I try to wriggle free. Eventually I let her succeed and I land on the floor with a thud.

"Success!" she throws her arms up triumphantly pillows and all…_when did she get two?_ She's bouncing on the bed ecstatically, "I am the pillow Queen, bow to me Quinn!" It's now that I fully take in her appearance, she is breathless and flushed. Her hair is modelling the 'just fucked' look, but it's the playful sparkle in her eyes that is my undoing. I was so distracted I had no chance of dodging her next blow which landed square in my face, knocking off my nose plugs. I felt them go but had no idea where they landed because obviously they were invisible. _Shit! I will never find them._

"That's it!" I growl, my voice low, my eyes hardening dangerously as I look at her. She looks momentarily apprehensive before she squeaks in surprise as I grab her ankles and whip them out from under her; she lands on her back on the mattress with a bounce. I pounce, pinning her down with my body and restraining her arms above her head. Her chest heaves into mine. Once she overcomes the shock her eyes search mine and I watch them darken dramatically. She bites that plump bottom lip again and I lick my lips in anticipation of pulling that lip between mine. Our noses are brushing against each other; I close my eyes as I lean my forehead against hers and wish for some control to find me.

"Quinn," it's barely a whimper, but I'm not really listening because I can smell her again. That sweet warm smell that makes my core throb and ache for her. A quiet breathy moan escapes me, and without my permission my hips start to grind into hers almost imperceptibly.

"Oh Quinn," she whimpers more urgently. I can feel her stomach muscles clench and unclench beneath mine. Heat between her legs radiates up to me as she arches, pressing her body more firmly against mine. Another wave of that sweet heated scent washes over me and somehow it smells decidedly wet. My hips jerk reflexively causing a moment of delicious friction, my breath catches and she releases an audible moan, I try desperately to still my hips, but they seem to have a will of their own and I can't get them to stop subtly rolling into hers. It doesn't help that her body is trembling delightfully beneath mine. _I want her so badly._

Our breaths are coming in small pants. I'm clinging on the edge of sanity, I can't for the life of me pull away and my body is screaming at me to give in by crushing our lips together while thrusting my hips into hers until we both come apart. "Quinn, _please,_" she nudges her chin up in search of my lips. I know as soon as our lips meet my last thread of control will slip from my grasp. There are no bickering voices inside my head this time. Only the intense primal urge to take her and make her mine against the half forgotten memory of a promise made, what feels like, a life time ago. The barest hint of our lips brush against each others-

There's a loud knock on the door. "Dinner's ready, girls!"

It's better than a bucket of ice water.

With the rush of adrenaline from the shock, I rip myself away from her. She whimpers at the loss but is quick to follow as I start pacing the room. "I'm so sorry, Rachel,"

"Please don't say you're sorry. I don't want you to be sorry," her voice is quiet but there is an edge to it.

"I shouldn't have done that, I – Ow!" I stepped on something. I look down but don't see anything. _My invisible nose plugs! Thank God. _I brush my hand against the carpet until I feel them in my hand and scoop them up, tucking them quickly in my pocket, wary of Rachel's eyes on me.

I turn back to her. She looks small and achingly beautiful. Her dark eyes study me but there is a glint to them that plead with me to pick up where we left off. I swallow hard. "We should go down for dinner," I force out jerkily. I turn to smooth down my messed up hair in the mirror.

"Quinn," she stands behind me trying to catch my eyes in the mirror. When I refuse to meet them she tugs at my arm until I face her. "Can we please talk about this? This isn't a bad thing, I just want to talk about it," her eyes plead desperately. I can't say no to those big brown doe eyes. I sigh and run a hand through my hair while trying to figure out how honest to be.

"Rachel, I like you. I think it's safe to say I more than like you. But we can't go down this route yet," she opens her mouth to say something but I halt her with a finger on her lips. "Before you say anything I want you to know it isn't because of who you are or the fact that you're a girl. I don't care about the school's popularity system and the fact that you are a girl is a non issue, I'm not scared of coming out or anything like that."

"Then why-"

"I'm not finished. There are a lot of things you don't know about me Rachel, and I want you to know everything before you decide if we should take things further."

"Why can't you tell me now?" I shake my head regretfully.

"It's too early for that. I want to earn your trust Rachel, that is very important to me, but I also need to know if I can trust you." She looks a little hurt and very confused.

"You _can_ trust me,"

"Girls! Dinner!" The loud voice of Hiram interrupts us.

"Just a minute Daddy!" she yells towards the door, frustrated, before turning back to me with soft searching expression. My eyes soften, and I bring my hand up to caress her cheek with the backs of my fingers. I fight down the urge to kiss her gently.

"I want to, but this isn't a small thing and I need time. So for the time being we should stick to being friends."

"With benefits?" she asks hopefully. I chuckle.

"I keep asking myself the same thing, but the answer has to be no."

"That sucks,"

"Tell me about it," I sigh out heavily. She looks up at me with a small shy smile, which I return.

"We should head downstairs," she suggests.

"We should, but first…" I turn to the dresser and pick up a hairbrush and hand it to her, "You should probably tame your wild hair. I don't want your Dads to think I defiled their daughter,"

"I wish you would," she mutters quietly under her breath as she turns to the mirror. It's so quiet I don't think I was meant to hear it, but I did so I laugh. After a few seconds she gives up with the brush and throws her hair up in ponytail. As she finishes she turns to me with narrowed eyes.

"I just realised, you are totally a self perpetuator of those mysterious, enigmatic qualities of yours," she points an accusing figure at me teasingly. I laugh. "You have no idea about the crazy thoughts running around my head right now because of your crypticness." I lead the way out her bedroom door and head downstairs.

"Why don't you hit me with a few, I don't think you will ever guess,"

"Okay. You're a notorious crime lord on the run from the law," I giggle.

"Nope,"

"You're a murderer on the run from the law,"

"Nope and as far as I'm aware I'm not on the run from the law so you can cross those ones off,"

"Oooh you're an undercover agent investigating someone in McKinley high school but you are not allowed to engage in intimate relations with potential suspects,"

"Oh good one! But no,"

"Okay how about a more realistic one?" she pulls me aside before we enter the dinning room and drops her voice low, "You used to be a guy but haven't had all the corrective surgery yet so you still have…man parts. That's okay with me, I would be completely comfortable with that and I would still think you're gorgeous." I smile brightly thinking how amazing and accepting this girl is. It fills me with hope that when the day comes to tell her I'm an alien from another planet that has bonded to her as a life mate, she might take it reasonably well.

"Rachel, while I love the fact that you are so wonderfully accepting, if I did have man parts, don't you think you would have felt them?" I suggest, referring to our very compromising position a few minutes ago. She blushes adorably.

"Good point. To be continued." She promises while walking into the dinning room. 

* * *

><p>"You girls took your time," Hiram commented as he walked in the room with dishes of food. Leroy was already sitting at the table, reading some documents, and appeared completely caught up in what he was reading, he barely acknowledged our entrance.<p>

"I'm sorry Daddy, we were in the middle of an important discussion,"

"Mmhm," he regards us cynically. He appraises our appearances and I do my best not to feel self-conscious under his gaze. Our clothes are a little rumpled, that can be explained away but our behaviour would be a dead give-away. So I sit down, confident and composed, and smile at him as he places down the food.

"This looks amazing, Hiram," It really does, my stomach grumbles in agreement as I eye the large lasagne dish.

"Thank you, Quinn. Its vegan friendly I hope you don't mind," I shrug.

"If it tastes as good as it smells I'm happy. And if it doesn't I will lie through my teeth," I smile well naturedly, he chuckles.

"As all good guests should," he smiles at me. I like that he has a good sense of humour.

He turns to Leroy who is still concentrating hard on the papers in front of him, and frowns slightly. "No work at the dinner table please, honey," Leroy looks up absently then shakes himself back into the room.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he pecks Hiram on the cheek, in an apology, as he gets up to put his things away. The gesture is wonderfully natural and I can tell that these two really love each other. The whole family dynamic speaks of love and it fills me with warmth. I feel Rachel's eyes on me and I turn to her, she looks like she's been studying my reactions to her fathers. She must like what she sees because she smiles so brightly and adoringly at me it makes my heart soar and I can't help returning the smile. Leroy comes back in and smiles at us knowingly.

Conversation flows easily during dinner, it's full of banter, light teasing and anecdotes, and I'm really enjoying seeing a snippet of this family's life. However, my eyes keep flicking back to Leroy who flitters in and out of the conversation but often falls into deep thought and looks a million miles away.

"Is everything alright, Leroy?" I ask gently and the other two trail off in conversation to listen in.

"I'm sorry. My mind was on a patient. I got a call before dinner that they've taken a turn for the worst,"

"I'm sorry to hear that. Can you tell me about it?" he looks a little surprised.

"Are you interested in medicine, Quinn?" I shrug.

"I'm interested in a lot of things, at the moment I'm interested in finding a way to help ease your burden," he huffs a laugh.

"I don't suppose you can cure this patient for me?" he suggests jokingly. I meet his gaze with a serious expression.

"Try me," I deadpan. He straightens up a little and eyes me curiously before his expression becomes bemused as he begins humouring me.

"Very well. A couple of days ago this patient was admitted to hospital with a rash and difficulty breathing, it was initially suspected to be anaphylactic shock," I nod in understanding of the initial diagnosis. "However, he soon developed a fever as well. This man is a janitor in industrial factories so we figured it was probably something he's been exposed to at work. But that could be anything: toxins, chemicals, fungal bacteria, a viral agent, anything. We did blood work, lumbar puncture, MRI and any tests we could think of to start excluding things. We excluded a lot of things when his symptoms became odder. Painful swollen joints, hallucinations, conjunctivitis, intermittent fever and rash, hearing loss… I think it must be some kind of autoimmune disease, but there is nothing I've heard of that fits. Then I got the call that his liver and kidneys have failed and he has lapsed into a coma. I have no doubt he's going to die if we can't figure it out." He finishes exasperated, running a frustrated hand over his head.

"What treatment have you given him so far?"

"Nothing really, other than they're now putting him on dialysis and moving him to ITU,"

"What about the fevers and the joint swelling?"

"We used ice to bring his temperature and swelling down,"

"And you said his fever and rash were intermittent? Did the rash come up after applying the ice?"

"No there wasn't any sign of an immediate reaction to it,"

"It could be CAPS," I deadpan. He looks at me wide eyed.

"What?"

"Cryopyrin-associated periodic syndrome, CAPS. It's a rare condition caused by a genetic defect in the Cold Induced Autoinflammatory Syndrome 1 gene, or CIAS1 gene for short. CAPS is a spectrum of autoinflammatory syndromes which includes Muckle-Wells syndrome, which I think best fits the symptoms you describe. Familial Cold-induced Urticaria may have also explained some of the symptoms if the rash onset was immediate after applying ice. But Muckle-Wells explains everything including the amyloidosis which is what's causing his organs to fail. The treatment for CAPS is Rilonacept, I believe."

The table is silent. Everyone is staring at me as if I've just grown another head. Leroy's expression is oddly blank for a long moment, before he suddenly gets up.

"Excuse me, I need to make a phone call," he disappears out the room in a daze. I watch him leave before I look down at my empty plate, wishing it was still full of food. I eye the half empty lasagne dish hungrily.

"Could I grab myself some more lasagne please, Hiram?" Rachel and Hiram are both still gaping at me, Hiram just nods absently. I smile and start spooning the food onto my plate happily. "What? Do you two want some more too?" I ask mostly to make them stop looking at me like that and also to break the silence. They both answer me with a no and a head shake. They at least stop staring at me, but start exchanging looks with each other. Leroy eventually walks back in and sits himself down.

"My colleagues agree with the Muckle-Wells syndrome theory. You may have just saved a man's life, Quinn," he says incredibly seriously.

"Glad I could be of help,"

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask…how could you _possibly _know that?" All eyes are back on me again. I shrug nonchalantly.

"I like to read, and I've read more than a few medical textbooks, I think the human condition is incredible,"

"Quinn is well known in school for being incredibly smart, Dad, most would say gifted" Rachel contributes, "Instead of attending most lessons she now tutors other students, including me, she's my physics tutor I was telling you about." I smile at her gratefully for attempting to dispel the awkwardness.

It doesn't really work as they proceed to question me about my 'gift', why I'm still in high school, what I plan on doing for a career, etc. And I answer them as honestly as possible, about how my parents want me to be socially well adjusted and were worried about the type of attention my intelligence would draw and didn't want me to be used or studied. This is true in many ways but it makes sense that any gifted individual would have to worry about the same thing. I told them that I had no idea what career I wanted and smiled while Leroy strongly hinted at medicine.

"Seems like you're not a bad catch, Quinn," Leroy comments teasingly, though I'm not sure who he is teasing more, me or Rachel. "Are you dating anyone currently?"

"Dad!"

"I thought you were married, Mr Berry," I chastise playfully. He laughs heartily.

"Ah yes, so I am," Hiram scolds him with a light smack on his arm, but he struggles to suppress his smile, "just out of curiosity then."

"No I'm not currently dating anyone,"

"That's surprising, isn't that surprising, Rachel?"

"Dad!" Rachel growls lowly, flushed with embarrassment. I'm finding this far too entertaining.

"So again just out of curiosity, maybe you could fill in the blanks. 'Beautiful, rich, intellectually gifted seeks…'"

"'…non paedophilic, socially adjusted, norm,'" Everyone laughs.

"Gender specific?"

"Dad, you can't ask her that!" Rachel looks mortified, but I find her indignation rather amusing.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Quinn, you don't have to answer that,"

"No it's fine. Gender makes no difference to me, and I don't think love considers gender either. Most people _fall_ in love and don't carefully abseil into it with a guide rope and a safety harness. Love can be completely unexpected, so I keep an open mind."

"So you don't have a type? Like, let's say dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin as a completely random, non-specific example," I see Rachel face-palm out of the corner of my eye and it makes me chuckle. I probably shouldn't take so much pleasure in her embarrassment but she looks adorable when she's flustered.

"Well Rachel here, just so happens to match that description and she is very attractive. But it would be an injustice to group her into a type. Rachel is one of a kind, unique. And anyone who does or doesn't fall for her because she does or doesn't fit into their 'type' is a fool because they would miss all her complexities and amazing qualities that make her unlike any other dark hair, dark eyed, tanned skinned person out there. Rachel just being Rachel is what makes her attractive, not the colour of her hair. So why have a type?"

"Good point, _very_ well made," Hiram praises with a bright smile.

"I like you. Have I mentioned I like you?" Leroy asks with a happy grin. I chuckle.

"I believe you have, right before you allowed Rachel to keep me,"

"Ah yes, I've changed my mind. Rachel I won't allow you to keep her…I insist upon it…Rachel?" Rachel is sitting still with an indefinable expression before she suddenly gets up grabbing a few empty plates.

"Excuse me," she mumbles before heading to the kitchen. Concerned about her sudden shift in mood, I pick up the remaining dishes and quickly follow.

"Rach?" I keep my voice gentle. She is standing at the sink just staring out the window. The only way I can tell she has acknowledged my presence is by her turning on the tap and starting to furiously scrub at a plate. I've seen my mother in the kitchen like this a few times and then my father comes in and seems to know instinctively how to calm her. I think it's because of their mating bond; they always seem to know how the other is feeling and know exactly how to respond to it to make things better. I don't have that instinctive knowledge right now. Maybe it's because she is human or maybe it's because the bond is incomplete or both, but I don't like it. I hate feeling clueless and helpless.

My best guess is she is mad at me so I figure she will say something when she is ready. I ease myself nearby and grab a dish cloth and start drying the dishes she has finished washing. Four dishes down she opens her mouth to speak but doesn't look at me.

"You are a walking contradiction," this makes no sense to me but her voice is bitter so I don't question it yet. "You can't just talk about me like that after telling me you don't want me," okay I have to argue that.

"I never said I didn't want you," I say softly but firmly.

"No you just don't want to be _with _me,"

"I didn't say that either,"

"Oh right I forgot, you don't trust me. I feel so much better," the sarcastic edge makes me wince.

"Rachel, will you look at me a minute?" I ask gently. When she makes no move to turn I grab a clean towel in one hand and gently encourage her hands out of the dishwater with my other. I start drying her small delicate hands reverently while easing her round to face me. She doesn't look up so I ditch the towel and take one hand in mine and bring the other up to caress her cheek until my eyes meet mine.

"I wish things were simpler. I wish this was a case of girl meets girl, girl dates girl, girl falls in love and has lady babies with girl," she snorts but I see a hint of a reluctant smile. "But it's not that simple, the only things that are simple are my feelings for you, I want you and I want to be with you. That's never going to change, but I have to put my feelings aside as best I can for now because I'm trying to do the right thing and give you a choice."

"What choice? Because I sure as hell don't feel like I have a choice right now,"

"The choice is whether to be with me or walk away," she goes to say something but I cut her off. "You can't make a final decision yet because you don't know everything about me, and when you do it may change your mind. However, you can choose now to walk away or find out where this goes on the condition that we stay friends until I'm ready to share everything. I feel I must point out that I've only known you since Tuesday and I don't think five days is long enough to share all my life secrets, or maybe that's just me and my mysterious personality." I try and joke and I succeed in getting a weak smile from her. "I'm serious though when I say that if you are already fed up and don't want anything to do with me then I can leave now and you never have to see me again. You always have a choice, you're holding the reigns."

"No I'm not, I'm stuck in the carriage along for the ride. You tell me I have a choice right now like jumping out of the carriage is the easy option, like it isn't going to hurt, but it will."

"Which is why I'm trying to slow the carriage down to make it easier before we're moving too fast and its becomes harder for you to leave."

"We need to stop using analogies it's started to make my head hurt," she runs a hand through her hair, and looks suddenly tired. "This isn't what I was angry about anyway. I'm not leaving this. I'm not even going to try to because I don't want to. I _really _like you, Quinn, and I have wanted to be with you for a long time now, pretty much since your first day at McKinley. These past couple of days have been amazing because I finally felt like I actually had a chance with you. So I was mad because I was sitting in there listening to you and becoming increasingly more frustrated that I have to wait to be with you."

My grin nearly splits my face and I haul her into a huge hug. She squeaks in surprise as I lift her off the ground. I'm so happy right now. Her words to me are like crumbs of food to a starving man. It wasn't a declaration of love but to me it was almost as important to know that, to her, this isn't just about physical attraction. Our feelings may be more similar than I had thought. But I'm surprised by something she said. She's giggling as I place her back down and I keep my arms around her.

"You've liked me since September?" She bites her lip nervously before she nods. "Why didn't you say anything before? You didn't even talk to me. I didn't even-"

"Know I existed until now?" Her tone isn't accusing but I still wince because she is right, I didn't and I've only just realised how shocking that is. How could I have been so blind to her? "It's okay, I mean we don't have any classes together, we never eat lunch in the same place, it's not like we would have similar social circles because I don't have a social circle and you seem to ignore yours. There are still people in the school that I wouldn't recognise, so don't feel bad. I only knew you because, unconscious or not, you made one hell of an entrance your first day, and you're kind of famous in the school." My thoughts are racing. What does this mean? Is this part human crush, part Caelen bond? Was I just incredibly lucky to bond to a human that already had a crush on me? Is she even affected by the bond at all? I can't answer any of these questions right now, so I put them aside and count my blessings.

"I do feel bad, I don't know how I could have been so blind. You are so extraordinary, I feel like I have missed out on so much." Her smile is beautiful and reaches her eyes making them shine. I'm struck dumb by the perfection in front of me. My eyes trace her features, memorising them. Her smile dims but her eyes become dark. I feel the energy between us shift to a familiar charged atmosphere. My eyes drop to those tempting lips as she licks them slowly finishing with a small guilty bite to her lower lip. "Stop that." I breathe out.

"Stop what?" she asks innocently leaning into me a little more.

"Stop making me want to kiss you," her breathing picks up a little. Her eyes dart to my lips.

"Is that so bad? Can't we be friends that kiss occasionally? We could call it practise." She's a seductive temptress in disguise, I should have known all along. She might as well be holding out a delicious, mouth-watering red apple. Or maybe it should be a berry in this case…

"That would be a great plan, but the thing is…I'm not sure I could stop myself at kissing," her eyes snap to mine and I know she can read how serious I am. It was meant to be a warning but to her it probably sounded more like a promise because a moment later my nostrils flare with her scent. I feel the primal beast inside me stir, it knows what it wants and it's making sure I do too. I lean in-

"Whoops, sorry girls,"

Let it be known that Rachel's fathers have fantastic timing.

"I didn't mean to interrupt um anything," Leroy is standing in the doorway with a mixture between a guilty and pleased expression. We've already pulled away from each other. I'm feeling relieved, Rachel just looks frustrated again. I'm starting to wonder how onboard she is with this whole 'friends' thing. I don't think she gets how important it is or maybe she just really doesn't care. Either way I think I'm going to be the only one fighting off both our desires while she is going to make this very difficult for me. _Oh boy._

"No its okay, Leroy." I turn to finish off the dishes. I can't see it but I'm convinced Rachel is glaring daggers at her dad right now.

"Ahh I was just going to ask if you're staying with us tonight, Quinn?"

"No" "Yes" Rachel and I simultaneously answer. Leroy looks confused, so am I.

"I should really be heading home," I say more to Rachel.

"You don't have to leave now," Rachel rushes out.

"I should. I don't want to take up anymore of your family's evening," I put the last clean dish aside.

"Quinn, it's been an absolute pleasure having you here. We'd love you to stay longer."

"Thank you, Leroy, I've had a wonderful time but I sadly I should take my leave." Leroy nods in understanding.

"Will you come back?" Rachel asks timidly, I hate that she thinks I could be scared off that easy.

"Of course I will, I love this family. Just try and stop me. Besides, I love hanging out with you, Rachel." I pull her into a hug but keep it brief. "Where's Hiram? I need to say goodbye."

"You're leaving?" Hiram asks surprised as he walks in.

"Yes but I will be back, I'm like a stray cat, you've fed me now and I liked it, I will be back for more," he chuckles and pulls me into a hug. It's warm and comfortable, and I feel accepted.

"You are by far my favourite stray, I'm happy to feed you anytime," I'm barely out of his embrace before I'm pulled into the taller frame of Leroy. He squeezes me tightly, I squeeze back.

"Thank you, Quinn." He murmurs sincerely. Then he disconnects to put a hand on my shoulder. "I don't how to express my gratitude for what you did for my patient this evening. I'm sure he and his family could say it better than me when he recovers…would you like to meet him?"

"We don't know if I'm right yet, but if I am, you should be the one taking credit for this not me. Doctors cure people not 17 year old book worms, and I'm sure that is what he and his family would like to continue to believe."

"That's very noble, Quinn. If you're interested I would love you to come into work with me one day. I'd be interested in seeing how well you pick things up, and you can see if medicine is something you would like to pursue." I'm amazed by his generosity, and I'm genuinely intrigued by the idea of seeing things I've read about being put into practise.

"I'd be honoured, thank you, Leroy." He squeezes my shoulder one last time. I turn to Rachel. She's staring at the floor, her face looks so dramatically downcast you would think I was leaving for good.

"Walk me to my car?" she looks up and nods. I pick up her jacket as we walk out the door and hand it to her. The evening air is quite cool and I don't want her to get cold while we talk.

"You know why I have to go right?" she just shrugs. "I'm not leaving because I want to, but because if I stay I'm going to end up doing something I shouldn't. I care about you and respect you too much to let that happen." She sighs heavily.

"I'm sorry, you don't need to explain yourself again I'm just being selfish and a little greedy. I'm really glad you came and hung out with me today."

"Me too, Rach," I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head before holding her against me. She relaxes into me quickly but I again pull away after a few seconds. "I'll see you Monday. Don't forget about our physics tutoring session."

"Gee I can't wait," she says sarcastically, I giggle as I open the car door.

"Learning's fun, Rach. Besides you know I'm your favourite teacher." I wink before climbing in the car and backing out the driveway.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Damsels and Dreaming

"_Daddy, why are people leaving?" My father is dragging me through the streets of Ghyan at an alarming pace. Caelens everywhere are frantically packing their belongings in any mode of transportation they can. They all look terrified._

"_Because something bad is about to happen, Quinn__é__owyn, and we have to leave too," My father's voice is shaking like I've never heard before._

"_Is this about the prophecy?"_

"_Yes…Its happening," _

_Some time long ago, scientists predicted that our closest planet, Dathan, would align with our planet and fall in sync with our orbit. Dathan is closer to the sun than us and is a very large gas giant. It would therefore eclipse our planet from the sun and throw it into a lasting darkness. Before this was known, many, many Caelum cycles ago, a prophecy was made that our world would be plunged into shadow and the creatures that dwell in the darkness would rise and swarm and claim the planet for their own._

_The prophecy was mostly ignored but preparations were made to ready the people for a lasting eclipse, storing vast amounts of food, installing lighting devices everywhere and designing an alternative power supply that wasn't solar. Caelens thought they were ready._

_I look up. The sky is half full of the red giant. The swirling gasses of its stormy atmosphere battle and mix with one another like the gasses are being stirred by a giant cooking soup. The occasional tremendous flash of lightening illuminates the noxious gasses adding to the planet's intimidating presence. The sun is nothing but a small dot being chased across the sky in a losing battle of speed. My father looks up and picks up the pace._

"_Hurry, Quinn__é__owyn, we must get your mother before…" He never finishes the sentence, he doesn't need to I think I already know. _

_Everything grows dim, like a black storm cloud has blanketed the sky. As if synchronised, everyone stops and stares upward. The silence is eerie as the sun is gradually swallowed up until there is nothing but the slightly illuminated horizon on Dathan. The city is dark, the air is still. No one is moving. I doubt many are breathing, they are waiting for something. _

_Animalistic cries are heard in the distance, faint at first but they are getting louder, echoes bouncing of the walls of buildings. And drumming, deep drumming that shakes the ground. BOOM…BOOM…BOOM…BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM._

"_THEY'RE COMING!"_

_Everything is chaos. People are screaming. Running. Grabbing frantically onto the backs of vehicles speeding away._

"_Keep moving!" My father yells at me. Our feet are pounding the pavement rapidly, we're dodging and barging through others. His grip hurts my arm and his pace threatens to yank my arm out of socket. I'm only at waist height of many Caelens and in the panicking fray I'm hardly seen. My father's tugging is the only thing stopping me from being trampled in the mass hysteria. The sounds behind us change. Barbaric, terrifying cries and growls are mixed with agonising screams of Caelens. Long screams of torturous pain._

"_The Raegas are hurting people! Daddy we have to help!" I cry at my father's back._

"_No, Quinn__é__owyn! We have to run."_

"_Someone has to stop them! This is wrong! Can't you see?" The Raegas are down the street now. I can see them scrambling along walls and pouncing on terrified people from above. Blood sprays as more Raegas converge on the fallen victims. I see the horror and pain in a man's eyes as he screams and claws at the ground with his nails until his fingers bleed as a Raega rips at his legs with its claws and teeth._

"_There is nothing we can do for them! We need to save ourselves." I yank my arm away from his grip. He whips round to face me, angry and scared._

"_NO! I can help! I need to help them!"_

"_Don't be stupid, Quinn__é__owyn!" I stare at my father, the man I looked up to, the man now ready to turn his back on his people in time of need. I shake my head at the man I no longer knew, and take off running into the fray. _

"_QUINN__É__OWYN! COME BACK! QUINN__É__OWYYYYYYNNNN!"_

I bolt awake in bed with the sound of my father's distraught voice echoing in my head. I won't be getting back to sleep tonight.

* * *

><p>School on Monday has a smooth start. I attend a couple of lessons, pick up some assignments from my teachers and overhear gossip that Jacob Ben Israel has transferred. I'm a little too happy about that. Does that make me a bully? Possibly, but he should consider himself lucky I didn't turn him into the police for stalking and braking and entering into Rachel's home.<p>

All in all, there is a smile on my face as I stop off to my locker between classes. I glance down the hallway towards Rachel's locker in hopes of spotting her. Like something out of a dream in cliché cinematic slow motion she turns the corner into the hallway and walks towards her locker before catching sight of me and the biggest most brilliant smile I've ever seen spreads across her face. Her eyes are bright and I swear she is practically glowing. Her hips are sashaying in slow motion in a short, pencil, argyle skirt that makes her legs go on for miles. Her off the shoulder, form fitting, dark blue top clings to every curve and I think I'm drooling a little as she makes her way towards me.

A flash of red and white rushes past the corner of my eye and suddenly I lose eye contact with her as her eyes dart to something off to the side before her face morphs into a panicked expression. I process it all in a millisecond. Santana is about to throw a slushy in Rachel's face. Her arm is drawn back for the throw. I move at super human speed, the hallway becomes almost frozen in time. Around me students are paused in various potions, some mid laugh, one has books falling out of his locker his face caught in mid realisation, there is a football hovering in the air above our heads with someone braced to catch it down the hall. There is a 360 degree scene of chaos paused in time but all I'm focused on is reaching Rachel. I plant myself in front of her and reach for the hand holding the slushy cup. Real time snaps back to the sound of a thick splash. Santana has red slushy dripping down her face, her expression one of utter shock.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Heads of the students around us whip round at the sound of the HBIC's angry yell, everyone fearful of their own safety. Santana wipes some of the sticky ice out of her eyes before the furious dark orbs pin me. "What the fuck is your problem, Fabray?"

I meet her eyes with a hard gaze, I'm boiling with rage. If she knew what was good for her she would read the warning in my body language and just leave.

"My _problem_ is with you throwing a slushy at Rachel." I growl.

"What the fuck does that matter? Its part of her daily ritual until the midget learns her place. You don't get to dictate what I do, Fabray. You just made a big fucking mistake!" she shoves me hard, but I don't move, my body is like a brick wall. She looks mildly surprised for a moment as she rebounds slightly off me.

"You remember the little deal we made last week Santana? I stay out of your world and you stay out of mine. The thing is Santana, Rachel is a friend of mine so that makes her a part of my world. And you just crossed a big line trying to throw a slushy at her. Now I'm going to let it slide this time seeing as you didn't know, but from now on Rachel is untouchable, so you, your Cheerios and the jocks better play nice or leave her the hell alone." A crowd is circled around us now. Santana is seething. She yanks a shirt off a frightened freshman in the crowd and wipes her face with it before tossing it aside.

"You don't give the orders around here Fabray, I do! That's because I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent, and no one wants to mess with someone from Lima Heights Adjacent. And imma bout to show you why by laying a smack down on your white ass!" I feel Rachel cling to the back of my shirt fearfully, her small hands graze my back and it helps ground me and reminds me not to let my powers get out of hand despite the rage coiling low in my stomach.

"You don't want to do this, Santana. You should walk away now," I warn.

"Oh I will walk away…once I put a bitch like you in place," she swings at me and I easily dodge it and gently push Rachel out the way to safety. I start circling the Cheerio.

"You're not going to win this, Santana."

"Please. I'm all over this, bitch." She sweeps her leg into a kick and I lean backwards, dropping to the floor until my back is brushing the tiles, I've hooked my lower legs under me. My weight is supported on my knees and the arches of my feet as they grip the floor beside my hips. In a feat of agility I bounce back into standing as her leg drops down. There are collective gasps and exclamations of awe.

"What the fuck? You some kind of circus freak? Maybe you do belong with the singing, tranny freak," she sneers. My fists clench in fury. _Hold back, Fabray. For fucks sake, hold back!_

"Don't talk about Rachel like that," I growl, I'm practically trembling with tension.

"Quinn…calm down, its okay," I hear Rachel speak gently beside me, her hand clasps my arm softly. I feel some of the tension drain away with her proximity. "Its time to go," she tugs at my arm, and moves to guide me away.

"Oh no, this isn't over. You don't get to walk away from this, Fabray. And stay out of this, Manha-" Santana goes to shove Rachel away but I snatch her hand in mid air.

"Keep. Your. Hands. Off. Her," I snarl. She looks shocked and a little afraid. I toss her hand away roughly, and turn away from her. This apparently just annoyed her. I sense her charging at me and I make a split decision on whether to react inhumanly quickly or take a few hits to avoid suspicion. She body slams me into the lockers, my back collides hard with the metal. I hear Rachel squeak in shock, this distracts me momentarily but I still anticipate Santana's next move. I stay routed as she thrusts a knee into my stomach. I grunt in pain and air whooshes out of me. I hunch over slightly from the force and she takes advantage and swings her right fist into the side of my face. My head explodes with pain. _That's it let her get a couple in. You can take it!_

"NOOO!" Rachel shrieks.

I watch Santana's next punch coming and duck it. I use my new position to ram my shoulder into her ribs. She stumbles back with a grunt and there is just enough room between us now for me to thrust my foot into her chest. She flies backwards and crashes into the opposite lockers. She slides down them but to her credit she picks herself up quickly. She growls and charges at me again, I sidestep and twist, using her momentum to throw her into the lockers behind me. I'm quick to pin her to the metal with my body.

"Quinn, stop!" Rachel pleads wit me. I turn my head to look at her teary chocolate eyes and Santana uses this chance to throw her head back and smack me in the face.

"ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU!" The very recognisable voice of Sue Sylvester booms across the corridor. The students fall into silence and I step away from Santana and wipe some blood from my lip and chin. Santana peels herself of the lockers and drops her head in shame as she faces her cheerleading coach. Sylvester takes in our appearances.

"Fabray! Go get yourself cleaned up by the nurse then meet Santana in the principle's office. NOW!" I move to comply and soon sense Rachel by my side. "And the rest of you GET TO CLASS!" Students start scurrying off in different directions.

I take Rachel's hand in mine and squeeze it. "You should head to class, I'm fine." She squeezes back tighter and clings to my side.

"No you're not fine. I'm coming with you." Her voice is firm so I don't argue.

We walk in silence to the nurse. The nurse cleans up my split lip and tells me I'm lucky I don't need stitches. She inspects the side of my left eye that is quickly swelling, and checks my eye for damage. I admit my vision out of it may have been a little blurry when I inadvertently compliment her tattoo on her neck that turned out to be a rather hideous birthmark that she was more than a tad sensitive about. I suspect her following experimental painful prod to my tender eye may have been completely unnecessary. Once she's satisfied she hands me some ice for the swelling which Rachel quickly takes from me. She presses it to the side of my face.

"Ah! Jesus!" I duck away from the ice. It's both freezing and painful.

"Sorry," she winces and reaches to steady my head with her hand, she applies the ice a little more gently this time. I still wince but I let her hold it against me. We hold eye contact as she brushes strands of my hair out of the way. At this point I'm feeling rather proud and heroic staring into the eyes of the girl I was willing to get beaten up to defend. It may have been a little egotistical but I was expecting that some swooning words were about to come pouring from her lips. "That was stupid you know." _Or not._ "You should have just walked away," she chastises me, but I can see that she's worried.

"I was too angry. I had to defend you, she has no right to treat you like that. And you shouldn't have to take it." I'm getting riled up again so Rachel calms me by caressing my cheek.

"While I admit I find your defending of my honour charming and inappropriately arousing," I raise an eyebrow and smirk smugly. _There's the swooning I was waiting for_, "the repercussions really aren't worth it. You're probably going to get suspended for fighting in school and now you have made a really big enemy. Santana isn't just going to let this go, she's vicious and power hungry. She won't stop until she squashes you."

"I'm still waiting for you to tell me why it wasn't worth it," she smacks my arm but she can't suppress her grin. "Hey no beating up the injured person,"

"You're a baby and an idiot," I mock a hurt expression.

"Really? I thought I was pretty smart,"

"Well you're the dumbest smart person on the planet then," she's more worried than angry. I slowly remove her hand that is holding the ice to my face.

"Rachel, I knew what I was doing and I know what I'm getting into. I'm prepared for it. Santana will learn that I won't step in line just like I haven't all year. She knows she's met her match and she has no power over me."

"She has the whole school under her thumb, Quinn. She can make your life a living hell."

"And you think I can't make her life hell too? Santana can bring it, I won't bend or break, I've been up against worst things then her. She doesn't know the meaning of hell…" I trail off, my thoughts going to dark memories of blood, pain and death. Sounds of agonising screams and animalistic cries reverberate in my head. Disturbing memories flood my mind and make me feel nauseous. Rachel's soft hand caressing my jaw brings me back to present.

"Hey," she whispers softly, her eyes are flooded with concern. "Where did you go just now? You looked…I don't know but I didn't like it,"

"I'm sorry, it doesn't matter. I should head to the principle's office," I get up of the plinth and take the ice from Rachel. She doesn't say anything else but gets up with me and follows me out the door. After a minute I turn to her.

"You don't have class down here do you?"

"No I'm coming with you,"

"You can't come with me, Rach,"

"Yes I can, I'm a key eyewitness and I should be there to support your retelling of events. I've got contacts in the ACLU whom I can call if I feel that punishment has been dished out unfairly and swift action will be taken. You did not start that fight and I will not stand aside and let you get labelled a violent delinquent like Santana. So I'm coming with you so you have the proper legal support in the pursuit of justice." I smile at this amazing girl and don't even bother to argue with her.

She is eventually told to leave after several tantrums from Rachel, Mr Figgins and Miss Sylvester. Mr Figgins finally won by pushing the school's no tolerance of fighting policy, and said we were both guilty of participating in the fight no matter who started it. Rachel exits in an impressive storm out, mumbling about calling her ACLU contacts, I know she doesn't go far though. When it comes time to dish out punishment to Santana and me, Sue Sylvester kicks off when Figgins mentions suspension. Although she was all up for ripping our heads off with verbal abuse it turns out she panicked over the suspension of her head Cheerio. She yelled and hissed and threatened blackmail on Figgins until he dropped Santana's suspension. However, he said that he wouldn't only suspend me and not Santana. So instead we get a week of detention with Miss Sylvester on the track field where she is free to dish out any punishment she sees fit. There is something seriously wrong with this school.

"So? Do I need to call a lawyer from the ACLU head office?" Rachel questions anxiously as I walk out the office and a disgruntled Santana barges past us.

I smile at Rachel and her willingness to pull strings to protect me. "No need it's not that bad, just a week of detention with Miss Sylvester." She winces.

"I think that might be worse than a suspension,"

"No it isn't because at least this way I still get to see you at school everyday," I smile charmingly, she ducks her head with a blush.

"I hate that you can make me blush so easily,"

"Really? Because I love it," I grin smugly and she pokes my side in punishment. "So what time is it?"

"It's time that you teach me some physics,"

"Is that so? Well let's get physical then," I meant it as a lame joke, but the surprised and hopeful expression on her face tells me that I really shouldn't joke about these things when there is so much sexual tension between us. "I-I didn't mean…um-"

"Right. Yeah…I knew that…" She giggles awkwardly for a moment then clears her throat. Well this just became extremely sexually awkward.

"So um…library?"

"Yeah!" She perks up quickly, looking relieved to be out of the tension.

* * *

><p>"So explain Red Shift to me because I really don't get it," she crosses her arms over her text book looking confused.<p>

"Okay, hang on a sec," I get up and disappear between the book shelves until I locate the book I'm after. "Let me give you the back story. A few years ago the Hubble Telescope that's orbiting the Earth took pictures of a certain dark patch of space under the constellation of Cassiopeia. It took several magnified images looking further and further into deep space. One of those pictures was this one here…" I flick to an image in the book of lots of different brightly coloured spots on a dark space background.

"Ooo pretty stars," Rachel coos.

"Uh-uh not stars. Every single spot of light in this image is a galaxy, with each galaxy containing billions of its own stars. If you look closely you can see some of the spiral arms of the galaxies."

"Whoa, I see it,"

"The galaxies appear as different colours because of the types of stars and gasses they mainly consist of. But Hubble didn't stop there, it took a few more pictures looking deeper into deep space, further than anyone had ever seen before, and this is what it saw…" I turn to a new page.

"They're all red," she comments looking at similar spots of light.

"They all _appear _red," she looks up at me confused. "These galaxies should be as diversely coloured as all the others but we see them all as red. This comes down to colour wave lengths. Picture a rainbow, its light that has hit water molecules and refracted so we see all the colours that light consists of on a spectrum. At one end you have blue light that has a short wavelength that looks like this," I draw a tight squiggle line on a bit of paper, "At the other end of the spectrum you have red light that has a much longer wavelength and looks like this," I draw a much broader wavy line. I watch Rachel and see that she is still following so I plough on. "If you could stretch out the blue light its wavelength would gradually increase until it looked red. So what scientists theorized is that these images are so far away that space is actually stretched out, and because space is stretched, light is stretched until all the light looks red. They can trace this stretch back incredibly accurately to a single point in time. The Big Bang. A lot of people think of The Big Bang as a huge explosion somewhere in space a long long time ago, where matter was flung out into space. But actually all of space and time was created in that moment. So these galaxies weren't just flung out and hurtled away from us, all of space is stretching out in every direction and with it it's stretching the light that we see from these distant galaxies so they appear red. That is the red shift. Make sense?"

There's a long pause from Rachel.

"I think you should be teaching all my classes from now on," she says seriously. I chuckle. "I'm completely serious. You just explained three physics topics in one go, linked them together seamlessly and I understood all of it. Why don't you replace all my useless teachers so I can actually guarantee myself a place at Julliard?"

"Well for starters, I'd liked to get paid. But if I was your teacher I would fail miserably at the appropriate teacher/student relationship with you. I would be socially condemned and lose my job incredibly quickly because of all the scandalously inappropriate thoughts I would have about you." I'm thinking out loud which I really shouldn't do because I really wasn't paying attention to what I was saying. I glance up and I'm caught by the look of intense desire on Rachel's face.

"What kind of thoughts?" Her voice is low and a little raspy. _What kind of thoughts? Sexy thoughts. _I wasn't really thinking it through before but now I am and my mind is bombarded with erotic images from the darker recesses of my imagination. I fantasise about splaying her over my desk and teasing until she begs for release. Pinning her against a white board and wrapping her legs around me before sliding my fingers into her wet heat.

"Sexy thoughts." I mumble distractedly.

"Tell me about them." She demands. I want to do more than tell her…this library desk looks pretty sturdy.

_Stop it Quinn._

_She's the one who put these thoughts in my head. What I am supposed to do?_

_You're meant to be stronger than this. So stop thinking about the quickest way of undressing her._

_I bet I could do it in five seconds and have her spread across this desk in seven._

_Are you even wearing the nose plugs?_

_Yes, but I want to take them off. I bet she's getting wet, I bet she smells so good right now._

_Yeah she looks very aroused right now…wait._

_I'm glad you're on board._

_No I'm not. And even if I was, you don't want your first time with her to be like that, do you?_

…_I guess not. I have better plans for that._

_Exactly because you want to make it special and wait for the right time._

_Yeah okay…_

_Okay._

_Can we maybe revisit these ideas when we're official?_

_Abso-fucking-lutely. _

"Nuh-uh. No way am I telling. That's like an avalanche on a slippery slope." She pouts frustrated.

"You're a tease," I snort incredulously at this.

"You're worse. I'm a tease accidently; you're a tease on purpose,"

"I'm not teasing. I just want you," she looks me dead in the eye and I swallow. "Don't you want me too?" she asks with faux innocence as she runs her fingers in slow sensual circles up my thigh.

"Fuck…Rachel," I still the hand on my thigh and try and control my breathing. Despite her not being able to progress her hand any further up my leg, she squeezes my thigh. My core throbs hard. I jump out of my seat, knocking my chair backwards as I do, and take a couple of stumbling steps back. "Fuck! Rachel, please stop making this so hard for me. I need you to work with me in this," I plead desperately with her.

She stands up as well, clearly frustrated. "Well it's kind of hard to fight what I'm feeling when I don't know why I have to!"

"I can't tell you yet!"

"Will you two be quiet?" The librarian whisper yells, having suddenly appeared from around the corner.

"Our apologies, Miss Thomas," I say politely.

"We'll keep it down, I'm sorry we disturbed you," Rachel says with a sweet smile. Together we are polite, sweet and sincere, and the librarian finds it difficult to hold on to her anger.

"Very well, don't make me tell you again. I'm quite fond of you two girls. Please don't fall into the ranks of the rest of the disrespectful students in this school." We smile and nod in understanding and she disappears around the corner again.

My fake smile drops, I turn back to Rachel and keep my voice quiet. "If you want to speed up this process then you have to show me I can trust you. Help me trust you by working with me. Fighting my feelings for you is so hard when you are so free with yours. So please help me out here." I search her chocolate eyes for understanding. She just stares at me for a long while then sighs heavily.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I really do want you to trust me. I'll try much harder from now on." She is completely sincere and I'm really hoping this is the last time we have this conversation. She opens her arms out for a hug, but I step back a little. "What? I just want to give you an 'I'm sorry' hug," she pouts.

"I can't…touch you right now, Rach." I drop my eyes to the floor when a see the knowing smile on her lips. "I think we should make up some rules to help us out. Like, from now on you have to wear a burka…all the time." I'm completely serious but she giggles.

"I'm not doing that."

"How about a chicken costume?" She laughs harder.

"No way!"

"Oh you should wear the Saw mask because that really creeps me out."

"Yeah and it will probably creep out everyone else, not to mention myself when I forget and look in the mirror. Face it, Quinn, I'm not going to wear anything," my eyebrow shoots up, "...else…you know, other than my normal clothes of course, that I will be wearing…all the time." She rambles nervously.

"Right…yeah…I totally knew what you meant…totally. I mean, I could see how you would think that I wouldn't know what you meant but I…instinctively knew. There wasn't some crazy image of you naked popping into my head or anything thing like that, because that would be silly. So that er…that did not happen…nope, not at all." We stare at each other for a beat before we both burst out laughing.

The bell rings. And we hear students start bustling in the corridors.

"Listen, Rach. My mum will kill me if I don't ask, so would you like to come over to mine for dinner this evening? My parents really want to meet you." I really hope that I sound casual and not as hopeful as I am.

"Oh, Quinn, I would love to…but I'm afraid I can't tonight. I have glee after school then voice and then dance lessons. Monday's happen to be my busiest evening, I'm sorry, another night definitely." I try to hide my disappointment. Just because I'm fighting the urge to jump her most of the time doesn't mean that I don't really like just hanging out with her and being around her. Despite the near constant arousal, her presence comforts me, and as stupid as it sounds, I know that if she's with me I can keep her safe.

"That's okay. I know how much that all means to you. I'm glad you're spending you evening doing exactly what you love, so we'll rain check. You're probably tired of looking at my beaten and bruised face anyway," I joke good naturedly. She smiles softly and reaches a hand out to caress the swollen side of my eye then glides it down to brush her thumb against the healing split in my lip. A pleasant shiver runs down my spine and I fight the urge to kiss the thumb on my lip.

"You still look beautiful, Quinn," her tone is reverent. "Did I thank you for standing up for me?"

I shrug. "Not in so many words, but I wasn't doing it for gratitude," _just a little swooning._

"I know but I want to thank you anyway. No one's ever done anything like that for me before,"

"Well now I'm here and I'll always be there for you, Rach."

"You're getting sappy," she teases with a smile.

"I think it's the head injury," I muse playfully.

"Ah I thought you were talking a little slower," she teases.

"That must be why you understood me then," I smirk. Her jaw drops in indignation. She lunges for me but I dodge out the way. "You shouldn't hit an injured person, Rachel." I scorn playfully, while backing up towards the door grabbing my things on the way.

"You're hardly defenceless, Fabray. I'll get you later," she warns with a hard glare.

I grin mischievously "Until later then," I wink and bolt out the door.

* * *

><p>"What on Earth happened to you?" My mother asks concerned as she catches sight of me when I walk in two hours later than usual, wearing my gym clothes and covered in mud.<p>

Had I been human I probably would have collapsed upon entry after the vicious punishment Sue Sylvester dished out on the track field this afternoon. Santana certainly looked worse for wear; she threw up twice but managed to only pass out once. For a human she has great stamina, it must be because she was used to the coach's torture Cheerio practises. I felt a little bad that I breezed through and only feigned hardship during the 500 suicides, 200 push ups, 300 sit ups, then Sylvester's infamous 2 mile assault course that she kept hidden in the forest near the school. I had to pretend to be too exhausted to stand so the coach would stop sending me round the assault course by myself after Santana was finally excused and had to be carried home. I think she could tell by smell that I wasn't sweating in fear for my life. At first it impressed her but the after I declined joining the Cheerios for the umpteenth time, my lack of putrid vomit breath only annoyed her. I'm not proud of sticking my fingers down my throat when she was distracted just so I could finally go home.

"Which do you want me to explain first? My face or the mud?" I smile at her so she knows I'm okay.

"Start with the face. Let me get some ice for that as we talk." I follow as she scurries into the kitchen and starts rummaging in the freezer.

"My facial injuries occurred during a little physical disagreement with a cheerleader. I had to keep up appearances of being a normal, human teenager and let her get in a few hits. I held back on her I promise."

My mother huffs at me. "Well I wish you had cared a little more about keeping up your physical appearance, you look awful."

"Thanks, Mum, you always know just what to say to make me feel special," I reply in a sickly sweet appreciative tone as she hands me a bag of ice that I apply to my swollen eye. She rolls her eyes at me.

"Why were you fighting? Was it to do with, Rachel?" She guesses well.

"Yeah kind of. I was defending Rachel from a malicious cheerleader on a power trip. Apparently Santana isn't the type to back down, especially when half the school is watching."

"Was it resolved?"

"We were interrupted by Coach Sylvester, so our issues are on-going." I shrug nonchalantly.

"I'm assuming you got in trouble, are you suspended?" My mother asks casually. It's nice that the worries of most parents are trivial to mine after everything we've been through. So things like me being in trouble at school are only an issue if I draw too much unwanted attention to some of my more non-human qualities.

"No. Through an act of divine Sylvester intervention, who couldn't bear to lose her head Cheerio to school policy, neither of us got suspended. Instead we got a week's detention with the harbourer of torture herself. Now I'm getting to the mud." My mother shifts onto a stool so she can listen more comfortably. "Apparently the legal legislations that bind every teacher in this country don't apply to Miss Sylvester and certainly don't apply on her field of pain and suffering," I'm building up the dramatics because I like to think my mother would appreciate a good story. "The Children's Protection Act might have been served shredded up to her for lunch, and she's now digesting it without even a hint of indigestion. Oh it was horrible mother. All the yelling, spitting, hateful words and promises of pain to come…I thought I would eventually loose my voice. But alas, she ignored me. For hours she drove us to physical exhaustion in her assault course of terror…well Santana may have suffered more than me, but I stepped in dog poo and that was just horrible, she wouldn't even let me stop to scrape it off with a stick, the smell was unbearable." My mother chuckles at my amateur dramatics.

"Alright, Quinnie. Go shower, you're dropping bits of mud on the floor," I look down and sure enough there is a two foot wide radius of bits of mud in varying states of dryness. I'm standing right in the middle of it so I could hardly claim innocence. I nod and begin to tip-toe out of the kitchen as if this would in some way help prevent further mud shedding. "Are we expecting Rachel tonight, dear?" I twist back to face her and wince when something on me squelches.

"I asked, but she can't make it tonight," my mother looks more disappointed than I was.

"Oh well another night perhaps?"

"Count on it." I smile assuredly at her and she weakly smiles back. I head eagerly to a hot shower. 

* * *

><p>Once I've showered and satisfied the growling beast in my belly with a large bowl of pasta, I head into the basement to put the finishing touches on my super cool flight suit. I want to test it tonight, I'm humming with excitement and I'm feeling far too impatient for the sun to go down. <em>Curse you Spring with your longer days and shorter nights<em>. I jump into my swivel chair and slide myself across the room with great accuracy, reaching my desk with a majestic pirouette. I spent a long time carefully picking out this chair, having the right chair seemed very important to me. And when choosing I was faced with the greatest question of them all. _To swivel or not to swivel? _I would love to know how many great philosophers, inventers or literary writers were swivel chair owners. Were Albert Einstein and Virginia Woolf slightly dizzy when they wrote their greatest works? I spent so long trying out chairs in an office supply shop that I was told to leave. In hindsight I realise I have far too much fun on this chair and get distracted easily so I probably should have gone for a chair that's greatest selling feature was that I could sit on it.

I'm distracted again and a little dizzy… Anyways, I make some final checks on the suit, and think that perhaps I ought to have hired some kind of safe testing facility, with safety nets and fire extinguishers and populated it with manikins wearing yellow helmets and carrying important looking clipboards, because of course I couldn't use real people. But I forgot about the very real danger of the suit malfunctioning and me dropping out of the sky, so I remain steadfastly optimistic that I built it well, while on the side I make a few adjustments to my Will.

Seven o'clock. I think its dark enough. I check upstairs. The sun has definitely gone down, the sky is a dark blue, and I think I see…yes, yes the first street light is on. I'm going.

I sneak out my bedroom window with the suit on and run at a blur out of town to the more rural and neglected areas. I stop at a small clearing in a wooded area and figure I have sufficient cover. I press a discreet button hidden in the collar of my skin tight suit and I feel the suit hum to life. _Okay here it goes._

I think carefully about a small cushion of air under my feet, and suddenly I feel myself lifting away from the ground, just and inch but my feet are definitely not touching anything. _Oh my God, I did it! I'm actually flying…well floating. Okay, next step…Up!_ "Oh Ssssshhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttt!"

I'm suddenly hurled up 40ft in the air and climbing, most of my internal organs are left on the ground. _STOP!_ I do stop, and then what remains of my internal organs are left in the air as I suddenly plummet towards the ground. _HOVER, HOVER! _My momentum halts two feet from the ground. I'm hovering face first, my legs up in the air above me, staring at the blades of grass that were almost spattered with my remains. I let out a shaky breath. _Right let's take this slower, first level out. _My legs begin to descend and my upper body starts to rise up until you could place a spirit level across my back.

_Good, now let's slowly move forward. That's it. I'm doing it. Now to curve gently upwards…excellent! _At this point I was so ecstatic about being in control of my movements that I completely forgot to look where I was going. I finally glanced up when I noticed a shadow looming over me, to see a wall of solid bark. _Shit! Up, up! _This only made me accelerate faster and higher into the tree trunk. I collided with it hard. It winds me and I lose concentration so I fall to the ground with a thud.

I lay flat on my back motionless, doing an internal sensory analysis of my body. Feet…still attached. Legs…also attached. Arms…I think they're there too. Torso…hurts. Breathing hurts. I try moving.

"Ow! Fuck!" My left hip and chest yell at me in protest. Due to pain my next thought was to get irrationally angry at the tree that tried to kill me. "Why didn't you move you stupid tree? Why did you have to be right there? Why did you pick that exact spot to grow a hundred years ago? Huh? Why?" I feel I must mention that I don't actually think it was listening to me, but it made be feel better to yell at it.

I pick myself of the ground and walk it off. I refuse to let myself limp, so I compartmentalise the pain I'm feeling until I can move normally.

Over the next hour I try and try again with the suit. I get gradually better at controlling it but I lack any form of grace and probably look like a tangled up puppet being giggled around by a child. I decide to switch it off and call it a night. I head back into town in my usual manner of leaping and bounding in the darkness.

I'm running across some studio roof tops when I see a familiar figure walking down the street. It's Rachel. I huge smile breaks across my face, I'm unfathomably happy to see her. She's wearing leggings with a baggy off the shoulder shirt and looks tired as she trudges down the street. I figure she must be heading home after one of her classes. I have to stop myself from calling out her name when I remember that I'm wearing a masked, skin tight suit, standing atop a building in the dark, I think she might be a little freaked out to see me, as I am, waving at her.

Instead I decide to be her unseen guardian angel and make sure she gets home safe. I'm compelled by a very deep need to protect her so I don't think I could walk away from her if I tried. I would like to think of myself as chivalrous and gallant rather than creepy as I follow her walk while slinking in the shadows and vaulting between rooftops.

A few minutes roll by and we are still quite far from her house. I've been wondering why her one of her dads didn't pick her up, and if they couldn't, why didn't she call me? Or did she? _Shit. _I don't have my phone on me, how would I know? I didn't exactly design this suit with pockets. _I'm an idiot. _What if she had been trying to contact me, but couldn't so now she has to walk home alone in the dark? _Nice one, Quinn._ Right as soon as I make sure she gets home safe I'm designing an inbuilt phone system into this suit.

My thoughts are interrupted as she turns down a particularly dark street that I really don't like the look of. Her posture stiffens and her strides quicken, her head whips around her shoulders every so often scanning the dark places. She's nervous, maybe scared. I'm torn feeling desperate to go down and comfort her and walk her home, and scared of losing her losing her in the long run if she finds out what I am too soon. _Be brave Rachel, I'm right here, I swear I won't let anything happen t-_

I tall figure steps right out in front of her, she practically bumps into him, and suddenly there are five men around her. The first man grabs her roughly. The other men swarm in on her.

"Hey baby, where you going huh? You a dancer? Wanna dance for me, baby?"

I hit the ground next to the man _hard_. The concrete ripples and crumples on impact. I'm livid.

I go straight for one of the hands holding Rachel. I twist until there is a sickening crack, the man screams but I cut it off by breaking his arm at the elbow. I thrust my leg straight up and meet his head with my foot. He drops. I sense the boot of another man coming towards me. I grab the leg and haul the man over my head and smack him into the ground the other side like a sledge hammer. Two others run at me. I jump into the air and catch each man with a foot to the face. The fifth man comes at me swinging knives. He swings wildly. I duck two swipes then grab one arm at the next pass. I spin around his back and wrench his arm with me, until I feel a crunch. He drops that knife with a scream. I'm still holding him as one of the others stumbles up and charges. I propel myself backwards using the man I'm holding as a prop. I do a backwards roll over his back, catching the man charging at me under the chin with a foot. I land in front of the knife wielding man, twisting his remaining knife hand and head butt him. He crumples in front of me. I turn to the only figure still standing.

_Rachel._

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel POV<strong>

"_I'm so sorry but I can't come and get you tonight. I've been called into the hospital for an emergency," _My Dad's voice sounds so remorseful over the phone that I can't really be mad at him. My Daddy left to go away on business this afternoon and he won't be back until tomorrow evening, so I can't exactly ask him to come pick me up from dance class. _"Could you maybe ask Quinn? I'm sure she won't mind." _I was already thinking about it. I didn't want to trouble Quinn but I also really didn't want to walk home alone.

"Yeah I'll call Quinn. I'll be fine, Dad, don't worry." I try to appease him.

"_I am so sorry, sweetheart. I'll make this up to both you and Quinn,"_

"It's fine dad. Go save lives," I smile as I speak hoping to ease his guilt.

"_Okay, I love you honey. Be safe."_

"I will. I love you too." I hang up and immediately scroll through my contacts to Quinn's number. It rings and rings an eventually goes to voicemail. "Quinn, it's Rachel, I'm sorry to bother you but can you give me a call back as soon as you get this? Thank you in advance, bye…uh answer phone."

I sit patiently for some time. The janitor of the studio eventually approaches me and warns me that he needs to lock up soon. I try Quinn again…and again, and again. No answer. _Where are you, Quinn?_

I wait until the last possible second then reside myself to walking. I hold the strap of my gym bag close to my chest as I start my long journey home. I wonder if Quinn has had enough of me for one day and is ignoring me. I couldn't really blame her, she did get beaten up for me today, then I saw her later on the track field after I finished glee running suicides with Santana with coach Sylvester yelling bullying remarks at them through her bullhorn. She's probably been through hell today because of me. _I'm such an idiot. _Why wasn't I more grateful? Why did I take it all for granted? She probably hates me right now. This was Quinn freaking Fabray defending me and taking all the punishment for it, showing me how much she cares and I blew it. All she's asked from me is to keep it in my pants until she is ready to trust me with her deepest secrets and I just kept throwing myself at her. She should hate me right now.

I round a corner into a small street entirely devoid of street lights. I don't like it. There are too many small alleyways and sunken doorways and it is so dark. I pick up my pace feeling my heart start to hammer in my chest. I'm hyper aware of every little sound and it makes me twitchy. I don't like these pitch black crevices I can't see anything, my mind starts to play tricks on me. I want to get out of here n-

Something large moves into my path, I gasp and almost collide with it. I realise it's a man at the same time as he grabs me roughly. I'm too petrified to utter more than a pathetic squeak. I sense other figures around me.

"Hey baby, where you going huh? You a dancer? Wanna dance for me, baby?" His tone is mocking and his breath is putrid. My mouth opens to scream.

Something lands fast on the ground next to us. The force of the collision nearly knocks me off balance; small bits of debris shower me from the cracked concrete. I just about over come my second shock of the evening to register the thing as a figure before chaos ensues with a blur of activity. My mind can't process the rapid movements fast enough but I hear snaps and crunches and agonising screams of men before I see them drop to the ground like broken dolls. It's all over in seconds. The bodies of the men who attacked me are all littered over the tarmac, but one figure remains.

I stand frozen in fear. The figure is slim, wearing a dark green masked, skin tight suit with subtle hints of gold over its tensed body. Its stance is animated; it still looks poised ready for action. My mind jerks into motion with vague recognition. _This must be the vigilante from the news. _I hadn't paid much attention to the stories, I considered them absurd ramblings of foiled criminals and drunks, but I wish I had now. All I know is there have been reports from apprehended criminals of a masked figure that had beaten them up before turning them into the police. There had been conflicting information on the gender of the so called vigilante but looking at it now I can say with great certainty it is definitely female.

The figure turns and makes towards me, I take step backwards, I want to run but I can't take me eyes off it/her. I have no idea what her intentions are. Granted she just saved me from being a rape or murder victim of the men on the ground, but maybe she will beat me up as well, maybe she will kill me to get rid of witnesses. She pauses after my retreat, her head drops down a little and her posture softens. I can't read any expression through her mask but I can read her body language and she looks kind of…sad?

I don't move any further despite my better judgement. Curiosity has started to seep in and it's battling against my instinct to run. I study her intently waiting for her next move. She straightens up, squaring her shoulders before she does something I most definitely was not expecting…she bows. With a hand on her chest she bows to me, it's not overdone it's actually quite subtle but most definitely a bow. A sign of courtesy and respect and it throws me. Partly because no one has ever bowed to me before and partly because this is the last situation I which I would ever imagine being bowed to. The question flies out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"Who are you?" She cocks her masked head to the side and just stares at me. Suddenly I feel a bit foolish. "Right, stupid question asking a masked person who they are." She nods slowly once. "What do you w-"

My question is cut off by the stirring of the man closest to me. He lets out a groan and reaches for my ankle. Suddenly I'm encased by warm, strong arms and my stomach lurches as I'm propelled into the air at tremendous speed in the arms of the masked woman. My breath is stolen from my lungs and I don't even get a chance to scream. My stomach lurches again in the opposite direction as we begin to fall, this time I squeak and try to brace myself for and impact that never comes, only the feeling of soft breaking. We come to a stop on a roof top, her body absorbing all the impact of landing, and she gently puts me down. I scramble quickly away from her.

"What the hell was that? What are you? What are you going to do with me? I'll have you know I carry a rape whistle, and my father is a policeman" _Liar _"and I have important contacts in the ACLU, I can have you prosecuted." Words fly out of my mouth faster than I've ever spoken before, which is saying something. She raises her hands in surrender and takes a couple of steps backwards. I take a look over the nearest ledge to get my bearings and I'm shocked at how far away the ground is, it actually makes me feel a little nauseous. "How did you get us up so high?" She doesn't attempt to make any kind of response.

"Can you talk?" I eventually ask after a few moments of silence. The woman just nods. "Will you talk to me?" She shakes her head. "Are…are you going to kill me?" I squeak out. She shakes her head forcefully. I let out a sigh of relief. "Are you going to hurt me?" Again a forceful head shake. "You- you saved me…?" I ask hopefully, she nods firmly. I relax a little.

"What are you? I mean we just flew." I know it's not a closed question but I get a head shake anyway. "So we didn't just fly?" A head shake. "We jumped…?" A nod. "That's impossible…" I muse to myself. I must be dreaming this is far too weird to be anything else. Soon I'm going to wake up safely tucked in bed, so for the time being I might as well go along with it.

"So you have some kind of super powers?" A hesitant nod. _Yep, definitely dreaming_. "So did you get bitten by a spider or get toxic waste spilled on you of something?" A head shake.

"Are you a mutant?" Head shake.

"A government super solider?" Head shake. I sigh exasperatedly. "What then?" She considers me a moment and I think she might actually be about to say something before she simply bends her arm at the elbow pointing up and follows her finger's direction with her head. I look up as well, half expecting to see a spaceship hovering above us in my dream but I see nothing but stars.

"Space? You're from space?" A slow nod. "Huh." I have to congratulate my brilliant unconscious mind for conjuring up such a wild dream. "Like Superman?" She shrugs. "If you're like Superman then why can't you fly?" I'm a little unimpressed. She crosses her arms over her chest defensively and turns her head away from me. I think I must have hit a nerve. I laugh. I've dreamt up a superhero that is sensitive about not being able to fly. My laughter dies in my throat when she puts her hands on her hips and stares at me. I can tell she's annoyed with me.

"Sorry that was insensitive of me," she nods. "I am very grateful to you for saving me," she bows her head at me again, I take that as a 'you're welcome'. "It was rather impressive, however I think this dream will be over soon, so I will say goodbye as I'm probably about to wake up." She cocks her head at me. "It was lovely meeting you and maybe I will dream about you again soon." I close my eyes expecting to find myself stirring in my comfy bed at home. After a few moments when all I feel is a cold breeze that gives me goose bumps on my exposed skin, I open my eyes again and find myself still on the roof of a building in the middle of town looking at the masked figure that is staring at me with what I assume is a look of utter confusion.

"I am dreaming aren't I?" Her posture softens before she slowly makes her way towards me. She stands close to me and I have to look up because she is a little taller than me. I feel a strange comfort from being in her presence. I feel secure and calm; it's a similar feeling to being near my dads or Quinn, when I know I'm safe and protected. She brings her hand up to my arm and strokes it gently for a moment and then suddenly pinches my arm hard.

"OW! Why did you do that?" I rub the tender spot on my arm, and then it clicks. "I'm not dreaming." She shakes her head. _OH MY GOD. _"I'm not dreaming, this isn't a dream, I'm actually here and you're…OH MY GOD!" I'm hyperventilating. "But I can't…you can't…this can't…I can't breathe…I think… I'm going to pass out." I'm dizzy. Before I collapse I'm scooped up and held against her warm, firm body. "I need to go home, can you take me home? I want to go home." She nods and takes a few steps before she pauses, turns a couple of times and looks down at me.

"Number 18 Everton Drive," I supply breathlessly, and with that we're off. I cling to her as she bounds smoothly over roof tops, her pace is incredible, and within seconds I see the familiar shape of my house. "My bedroom is around the back, the window is unlocked." I don't exactly know why I'm telling her this, I'm not sure if it is the smart thing to do but it seems like a better option than her dropping me at the front porch for all my neighbours to see.

With impressive accuracy and agility, her final leap lands us on my window ledge. She quickly opens it wide and climbs in, two strides later I'm deposited gently on my bed. She turns to leave.

"Wait!" She pauses. "This doesn't…I can't make sense of this…but thank you." I'm sincere even though I feel like my world has just been turned upside down. She bows a final time and then she gone.

Two minutes pass and I'm still sitting numbly on my bed. My phone rings and makes me jump. I pull it out of my bag…Its Quinn. I press answer absently and hold the phone to my ear.

"_Rachel? Oh my god, I'm so sorry I missed your calls, I was asleep, I didn't hear my phone. Are you okay? Rachel?"_ I open my mouth a few times before successfully making a sound.

"I'm okay. I think…I'm okay," I'm still too shocked to process anything.

"_You don't sound okay. What's wrong? What happened? Where are you?" _Quinn sounds panicked.

"I'm at home, I just got home. I was calling you to see if you could give me a lift back from dance class. But I'm home now so don't worry about it." My voice doesn't feel like it's my own.

"_I'm so sorry, Rachel. You walked home alone?" _

"Yeah, kind of."

"_Kind of? Rach, did something happen?"_ I'm silent. _"Rach, you're scaring me. Please talk to me." _I still can't produce any sound. _"I'm coming over, Rachel. I'll be there in two minutes." _I nod but realise she can't see it so I let out a weak 'okay'. With that she hangs up and I'm still sitting numbly on my bed.

What I assume is two minutes later I here the deep grumble of her Aston pulling up. I go down to open the door. I barely have it open before I have my arms full of Quinn.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel" She whispers as she holds me tight. I'm safe in Quinn's arms, she doesn't hate me, she genuinely cares for me deeply. She's warm and comfortable and I suddenly feel completely overwhelmed, I start crying into her. I clutch at her shirt and sob, the adrenaline is still in my system making me shake.

"Rachel, Rachel…" Her voice sounds desperately helpless, as she runs a hand through my hair. She pulls away enough to look at me, her hands move to my face in caressing movements as she brushes my tears away. "Rachel, please talk to me. Baby, _please._" Her voice sounds thick and watery. I finally look up at her and wince at what I see. Her face has come out in horrible bruises, she's purple, blue, red and still a little swollen on one side of her face, her lip has scabbed but worst of all there are tears in her eyes, not because of her injuries but because I'm crying and I won't tell her why. It makes me sob harder.

"Ssshh, its okay. It's going to be alright, I've got you. I've got you, Rach, its okay." She holds me against her again and I burrow back into her neck.

Eventually my sobs subside and she guides me upstairs to my bedroom. She sits me on the bed, and strokes my hair again before kissing my forehead.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a second," I want to protest but she's already out the door. She comes back a few moments later with a large glass of water and hands it to me. I gape at her. _How could she possibly know about the water thing? How is she so perfect?_

"Crying can make you dehydrated, you should drink up you'll feel better for it." She says gently as a way of answering my unasked question. She sits beside me and rubs soothing circles on my back while she waits patiently for me to finish the water and summon enough composure to talk to her. After some time I turn towards her and pull my legs up under me Indian style, she mimics my position

"My Daddy is away on business and my Dad got called to an emergency at the hospital during my dance class. That's why I tried to call you because he couldn't come pick me up." She goes to apologise again but I silence her with a finger to her lips. "It's okay, please don't apologise again. After everything you've been through today I can't blame you for falling asleep." I try to appease her but she hangs her head still looking terribly guilt ridden.

"I was walking home, a man stepped out in front of me and grabbed me, there were others with him." I look up and Quinn's jaw is locked tight, there is intense anger in her eyes and her eyes look a little watery but she stays silent and waits for me to finish. "I was so scared I was going to be raped or murdered or both…Then…someone else appeared." I pause for a moment thinking about how go about telling her something that sounded so insane in my own head.

"Have you heard about the vigilante in the Lima news?" She nods her head slowly, not taking her intense eyes off of mine. "Well I didn't believe any of it until tonight. They were there, Quinn. Or rather _she _was there. One woman against five men and she won easily, within seconds they were all lying on the ground unconscious. It was horrible to witness, the men screamed so painfully. I thought she might hurt me too." Quinn reaches out and squeezes my hand reassuringly. "But she didn't. And then things got weird." I pull her hand into my lap with both of mine and take a deep breath. She looks like she is biting her tongue to stop from saying anything and I appreciate it greatly, particularly because of what I'm about to say.

"Quinn, I swear what I'm about to divulge actually happened as I experienced it and I won't exaggerate the facts for entertainment. I can only hope after I tell you won't think I'm insane, or degrade the events with an explanation that I was highly stressed or some such trivial theory."

"Rachel, I promise that I will hold your word as sacred. But you are making me incredibly anxious, please put me out of my misery."

I proceed to tell her everything as I remember it, the one sided conversation, the bows, the super abilities, the escort home, and I didn't even bother leaving out the embarrassing bits of me assuming I was dreaming and then nearly passing out. Quinn listened to all of it without a hint of expression. I'm both impressed and relieved by her neutrality. Her ability to not make me feel foolish when I was speaking of such extraordinary and ridiculous things was a godsend. I now sit and wait anxiously for her response, I'm not sure if I could take it if she was to laugh at me now.

Her gaze has never left me, she continues to study me much like she always does, and I'm naked and vulnerable again and I beg her with my eyes to be gentle with me.

"Rachel," I swallow with difficulty and try to brace myself for the worst, "I believe you." Her words are firm and sure as if she just told me the sea was wet. My eyes widen in disbelief.

"You do…? I'm not even sure _I _believe me."

"I believe you without exception or doubt. However, the events, no matter how extraordinary, are not what concern me…what concerns me is how you are handling all this." _Who is this woman? Is she some kind of angelic being? If superheroes with super abilities exist why can't angels? Maybe she is my guardian angel that is forbidden to love me, which is why we cannot be together. Oh forbidden love and angels, how romantic. _

I will admit I may have gotten somewhat carried away with my fanciful thoughts. But what was I supposed to think with this perfect being sitting opposite me saying and doing all the right things in the most unusual of circumstances. If I wasn't still so completely overwhelmed with everything that has happened tonight I might have been entertaining the idea of being utterly in love with her. As it is I hardly think I'm in the right state of mind to be contemplating such grand notions. Still, the look of complete adoration on my face can not be suppressed.

"I am still quite overwhelmed by everything but I'm feeling a little better now that I've talked about it. I'm really glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too I'm just sorry I wasn't there for you in the first place, none of this would have happened if I hadn't missed your calls."

"Please stop blaming yourself. Think of it as an act of fate, I think I'm beginning to. I mean how much of a coincidence was it that neither of my dads or you were available to pick me up because of unrelated events that took place today? Maybe I was destined to meet this vigilante." I'm actually starting to feel excited by my musings. It appeals to my fanciful side much like angels and forbidden love.

Quinn raises a perfectly sculptured eyebrow at me from the uninjured side if he face. "So how do you feel about this vigilante?"

"I think she has ultimately good intentions, after all she was quite obliging taking me home after saving from those men, although her methods of incapacitating said men were questionable. And she didn't talk to me which I found a little rude." Quinn chuckles.

"I meant how do you feel about the whole, space alien with superpowers bit?"

"Oh. I'm really not sure how I feel about that yet. If it wasn't for the super abilities I would think she could have made up the space thing either to mess with me a little, or made it up in her mind in which case I don't think she is particularly sound of mind. But with those abilities I think I'm wiling to suspend disbelief and entertain any theories."

"And if she is an alien…?"

"Then I think she is a fairly friendly alien."

"Huh," Quinn has a thoughtful expression.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just think you are taking this better than most would."

"I like to think of myself as open minded," _hint, hint, Quinn._

"You are amazingly opened minded," she nods with a far away look. _Come on, Quinn. _"It's been a long night for you, you should get some sleep." _Urgh. What is it going to take?_

_Maybe she thinks we've had more than enough shocks this evening._

_This may be true._

_We should be more patient._

_But it's so hard. She is so amazing, I want her so much, I don't want to wait._

_It's her decision. Be patient._

"I should get going, let you rest." She goes to move off the bed. _No!_

"Wait! Will you stay with me tonight? Please? I'm still a little freaked out and my Dads aren't home. Please stay with me." I turn on my big puppy dog eyes to full power, there's no way she can resist.

"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea, Rach,"

"Please, it's just sleeping. I really want some company tonight." She runs a hand through her hair, and lets out a small sigh.

"Okay," I smile brightly, puppy dog eyes never fail. She grabs one of my pillows and a blanket and chucks them on the floor.

"What are you doing, Quinn?"

"Sleeping on the floor,"

"No you're not. You're sleeping up here with me. The floor is far too hard and you will wake up stiff and sore. I won't allow it."

"Fine, which side of the bed do you sleep on?"

"The left,"

"Fine," she moves to the other side, clearly a little agitated.

"I'm going to go change,"

"Fine,"

"Do you want to change?" She looks down at her t-shirt and sweats.

"No," I can't help smiling a little. Quinn looks cute when she's grumpy. I don't even feel a little bit bad.

When I come back in wearing a tank top and shorts I find Quinn in the exactly the same place as I left her, lying above the covers with her arms folded behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. She glances at me for a moment, just long enough to scan me from head to toe before she quickly averts her eyes back to the ceiling and swallows hard. I like knowing I can affect her like this. She makes me feel incredibly attractive just with the way she looks at me. I slide under the covers on my side with a happy smile.

"Aren't you getting under the covers?"

"No,"

"You'll be cold if you don't,"

"Fine," I smile as she fumbles to get under the covers. Once she's in I snuggle straight into her side and let out a contented noise. Quinn hesitates for a moment before bringing an arm around me and letting out a sigh of her own.

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for staying with me, I feel much safer,"

"You're welcome, I like keeping you safe,"

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you not tell my dad's about what happened tonight? I don't want them to worry."

"Okay, but I don't want to outright lie to them,"

"Okay,"

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for bringing me the water. My dads always bring me water when I'm upset, it's like a tradition."

"I didn't realise but you're welcome,"

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight,"

"Goodnight, Rach,"

"Rach?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you take your hand out from under my shirt?"

"Sorry,"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – Super Quinn needs a proper superhero name. Please throw me your suggestions.

Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews. I took a chance with this story and I'm so glad that you are all enjoying the journey so far.

…I may have been in an odd mood when I wrote this chapter; it was mostly for my own amusement. More story meat in the next chapter. 

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

You want to call me what?

My mind creeps slowly into consciousness after a dreamless sleep and I'm feeling more relaxed than I can ever remember. I refuse to open my eyes and instead concentrate on the feeling of warmth, comfort and happiness that seeps over me making me smile. I'm holding something soft and warm and it smells like strawberries and caramel. I nuzzle closer to it, breathing it in deep. It smells delicious, edible even. _Mmm, I want to taste it, maybe I should taste it. _I experimentally press my lips to it. It's wonderfully silky against my lips but I can't yet taste it so I part my lips a little and very gently suck on the same spot. A soft moan erupts from the back of my throat. _It tastes so good._ I eagerly begin lightly sucking on as much of it as I can reach without really moving.

There's a soft sigh. It wasn't mine. It felt like it came from the soft tasty thing in my arms. _How odd. _My still semi conscious brain can't make sense of that yet so I continue on my exploration with my taste buds. Suddenly there is movement from the soft tasty thing, I hold it tighter, I won't let it get away. But it's not moving away, it's moving closer if anything. Soon there is a weight on the back of my head pressing me into the delicious silky thing. Its holding me there, I don't know why, I'm not going anywhere. I make my point by grazing my teeth against it.

"Mmm, Quinn," _Wait a minute…That was Rachel. She sounded close, very close…oh crap._

I crack my eyes open to confirm my suspicions and see soft tanned skin before me. The back of Rachel's shoulder and neck are mottled with red areas where I had been tasting. _Oh no._

_Quinn, what were you just doing?_

_Urgh now you're awake too?_

_Yeah it seems I'm a little late, I apparently missed breakfast._

_It's not funny._

_Yeah it is._

"Quinn?" I scrunch my eyes up, willing her not to be aware of what I was just doing.

"Hmm?"

"Why'd you stop?" _I have no luck._

"Stop what?" I try to sound convincingly confused. I'm curled behind her so she can't see my guilty face unless she turns.

"What you were just doing"

"I just woke up. What do you mean?" Well I sort of just woke up.

"You um you were kissing my neck. I liked it. Why did you stop?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was sort of doing it in my sleep?"

"Depends. Is that true?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Oh…well maybe you should go back to sleep then." I laugh silently behind her but I know she can feel it.

"But I'm awake now,"

"Does that mean you will or won't be removing your hand from under my top?"

I honestly didn't know about that, honest. But looking down over our bodies I can see my arm disappearing under the fabric across her stomach.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even realise," I slide my hand across the skin of her abdomen as I remove my hand, I feel her muscles quiver slightly under my touch as I do so. I have to resist the urge to draw the moment out because I love how responsive her body is to such a simple caress.

She turns, rolling on to her back so she can look up at me as I prop my head up on an arm. She scans my face with a dopy smile.

"Hi,"

"Hi," I smile back.

"I know we are supposed to be putting our feelings aside for now but can I be honest a moment?"

"Am I going to regret saying yes?"

"There is a possibility." Her eyes twinkle. I'm curious.

"Go ahead,"

"That was a really nice way to wake up…but I wish you'd kept going." Her eyes darken and she bites her bottom lip as she gazes up at me. A wave of heat pulses through me and I feel my breathing pick up as I stare at the person I want most in this world, lying below me in her bed. _I wish I kept going too. I want to know if all of her tastes that good._

"You should have stayed quiet then. You woke me up." I'm surprised by the low husky quality of my voice that had nothing to do with having just woken up.

"It's impossible to stay quiet when you're doing those things to me." There is promise in her eyes and it makes core throb with desire.

I panic. I didn't bring my nose plugs with me last night I was in too much of a hurry to blur home, get changed and get back to Rachel as the Quinn she knew. I think the covers over our waists are delaying the inevitable. The moment we shift again I'm going to pick up her scent. I can't be in bed with her when that happens.

I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from her hooded chocolate orbs. I glance at the clock. "I should get going. I need to get home and get ready for school." I'm out of bed before she can protest though I hear the exasperated sigh.

"Can I at least make you some breakfast?" She goes to remove the covers from herself, I'm quick to intercept. I sit on top of the covers beside her and brace my arm on the other side, effectively pinning her beneath the blankets and trapping the scent that would be my undoing.

"Its still early, you can stay in bed and get some more rest. I'm not that hungry yet." _Yes I am._ "I'll show myself out, but how about I come pick you up for school?" That appeases her a bit and she gives me a small smile.

"Okay,"

"Okay. I'll see you in a bit," I kiss her forehead and head out the door with a backwards glance and a wink. 

* * *

><p>I saw her dad's car outside, so I'm sneaking through the house trying to be quiet and not wake her dad. The front door is in sight, I just have the squeaky wooden floor of the hall to navigate.<p>

"Quinn?" I freeze. Leroy's puzzled and surprised voice startles me as much as I did him. I turn to wear the voice originated from. Leroy is standing in the living room with a cup of coffee looking tired and confused.

"Good morning, Leroy. I hope you don't mind, Rachel asked me to stay over last night because she didn't want to be in the house by herself." I try and keep my tone as plutonic and non suggestive as possible, and I push the completely non-plutonic thoughts I was having about his daughter while in bed with her a few minutes ago to the back of my mind.

"Oh, yeah of course that's fine. You're always welcome here, Quinn. I was just surprised. Thank you for staying with her that's very kind and thanks for picking her up last night, I really appreciate it."

"Anything for Rachel," I don't like taking credit for something I didn't do, but I'm not really lying. I did eventually pick her up…in my arms. "You look tired Leroy. Have you had much sleep?"

He rubs a hand over his drawn looking face. "I haven't had any, I haven't long been in. Once I had finished up with the emergency that had me called away, five men were rushed in having been beaten. I had to lend a helping hand because they were short staffed in the ER, it's a small hospital so everyone pitches in. Apparently it was that vigilante in the news that got to them, and I had to be the one to patch them up." His voice is rising in frustration. I wince. I feel guilty that he had to clean up my mess. Not only that but unbeknownst to him, he just helped the men who attacked his daughter. "Seriously, who does that guy think he is taking the law into his own hands? We have a non violent justice system for a reason. People can't just go around beating up whoever the hell they like." I really do wince at this feeling ashamed.

Leroy suddenly stops and takes in my bruised face as if seeing it for the first time. "I'm so sorry, Quinn. That was really inconsiderate of me. Please forgive me, I wasn't referring to you. Would you like me to take a closer look at your injuries? They seem worse than Rachel described." His looks concerned and remorseful, and it makes me feel a little sick. He _was_ referring to me, he hates what I am and what I do. He shouldn't be apologising to me, he should be kicking me out of the house and calling the police.

"It's okay Leroy, they're not that bad."

"No please, it's the least I can do for inadvertently criticising you. I must sound so ungrateful to you for defending my daughter. Please take a seat." His eyes plead with me and I reluctantly take a seat. I don't want him to be nice to me, I don't deserve it. But if I tell him this, if I tell him that I'm the vigilante he hates I might lose Rachel. He could take her away from me. So I sit and I swallow my self loathing, because the thought of losing Rachel hurts more.

He checks over my head while asking all the relevant questions. "No obvious sign of skull fractures. Your head appears fine other than aesthetically. You look like you're slightly favouring one side, any other injuries I should know about," _He's sharp. _My ribs are actually killing me but I was trying to keep my posture as neutral as possible.

"Just my ribs and my pride,"

"I'm going to need you to remove your shirt to take a look, is that okay?" _It's awkward as hell. _

"That's okay," I'm incredibly thankful I bothered to put a bra on last night as I stand in the Berry living room topless, while Rachel's father takes in the extensive bruising on my ribs.

"Did you get this in the fight with the cheerleader, Quinn?" _and the fight with the tree may have made it worse. _

"Yeah,"

"Rachel didn't tell me about this,"

"Rachel doesn't know about this,"

"Right, got it. My lips are sealed." He begins the long process of checking my ribs for fractures. After a particularly loud grunt of pain from me, he looks up at me with a serious expression.

"You must really care for Rachel to fight for her like this," _you have no idea. _

"I do," my voice is firm.

"Do you love her?" My brain trips over itself.

"Yes." Just like that the word comes tumbling out of my mouth, firm and sure. I don't think my brain was involved in that process at all, it's only just starting to catch up.

_Wait…I do?_

_I thought you were meant to be the smart one._

_I am but…seriously? In love?_

_Yep._

_Oh._

I'm wondering why I just now figure this out while I'm standing half naked in the Berry living room, having my mate's father checks my ribs for fractures. As epiphanies go, this is an odd moment to have one.

Seemingly done with his physical assessment he hands me back my shirt which I gladly put on. I can't read the expression on his face and that worries me.

"Have you told her?" His voice is as neutral as his face.

"She knows I care deeply for her but I haven't said the words to her."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think either of us is ready for that yet,"

"Have you two had sex?" His tone is so neutral I think he's still in doctor assessment mode.

"No, we haven't even kissed," the first expression I gather from him for some time is surprise.

"Why not?"

"It would be easy for us to rush into something but I want us to take things slow. I want us to establish trust and familiarity before we throw everything on the line. I respect her and I don't want her to rush into something she's not ready for."

"Are you talking about coming out?" I can see why he might think that, but it has nothing to do this.

"No, that's not an issue for either of us. I'm talking about taking things slow for the sake making the feelings between us less scary," he smirks at me and I see the friendly teasing Leroy I know.

"I thought you said people don't abseil into love with a rope and a safety harness?"

"I guess I'm trying to anyway, but I think I'm running out of rope," I smile back at him. His grin lights up his face and before I know it I'm being pulled into a huge hug. I gasp in pain as he squeezes a little too tightly, he quickly pulls away.

"Sorry, Quinn. I didn't mean to hurt you; I don't think anything is broken, just bruised. I'm just so happy right now. I couldn't imagine anyone better for my daughter, you know. Sorry for the inquisition but I'm still her father and I had to be sure, even though I've been rooting for you from the start. I know my daughter she's impulsive and doesn't really think before going for what she wants, but to have someone like you helping to make her wait and think things through, is perfect for her. She needs that. But if you want my advice, Quinn, you can't control everything, especially love, so when you run out of rope, don't be afraid to free-fall."

I'm feeling a little relieved but I still fear that when he finds out what I am he could take it all back. I desperately hope that when he does find out the truth, he will remember this moment and how much I care for Rachel.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for your blessing and the injury check. I better get home and get ready for school."

"Yeah sorry for holding you up, but just to let you know you'll have Hiram's blessing as well, he and Rachel are much alike, so because Rachel likes you can guarantee that Hiram likes you too."

"I'm glad." I am because what are the chances of them both hating me when they know what I am? "You should probably head to bed, Leroy. You look shattered."

"I will once I take Rachel to school,"

"I'm picking her up this morning so it's okay for you to get some sleep now,"

"Aww see, you're so sweet. I like you more and more." _Please remember this, Leroy._

"I like you too, Leroy," I say with a smile before I turn and head for the door.

"Have a good day, but please no more fights, I don't condone violence," I wince again, luckily he can't see it.

"Noted." 

* * *

><p>Apparently the mini war between Santana and me is on.<p>

When we get to school I have to steer us around a waiting slushy attack from a bunch of footballers who fortunately aren't bright enough to hide in a non conspicuous location. My locker is booby trapped with an ink gun, which I'm fast enough to dodge, but all my books got ruined. I stop Rachel before she opens hers and manage to disarm it with a paper clip. People try and fail to trip me up all day. I sit in class with Cheerios who make it obvious they are pointing and laughing at me, trying to play mind games. I don't care. I just hope I'm the main target and Rachel isn't being subjected to all of this as well.

When I go to meet Rachel for lunch in the auditorium, the only safe place for us left, Rachel looks miserable. She's sitting on stage, her shoulders slumped, she looks like she's had a miserable day so far. Anger wells within me. _Low blow, Santana, low blow. _Rachel doesn't deserve any of this. I have to end it, today.

Rachel smiles when she sees me, but I can see that sadness in her eyes. I pull her straight into my arms.

"Has your day sucked?" I whisper to her. She just nods into me. "This will be over before the day is, I promise."

"The only person that has been nice to me today was Brittany," she sounds so sad, I hate it, so I just hold her closer and hope that it will help.

"Yeah she's a big softie, I talk to her a lot in our tutoring…sessions…" I trail off. An idea just struck me. Brittany. She's the key to end this.

"What?" Rachel looks up at me puzzled.

"I've just thought of a way to get Santana off our backs. She loves Brittany." I state as matter of fact.

"You're not going to do anything to Brittany are you? That's not fair." She's appalled at the thought.

"No of course not, I would never. She won't even be directly involved, I'm just going to have a little chat with Santana."

"You do mean _chat_ don't you? Not another physical altercation?" She asks apprehensively. I chuckle a little.

"Yes I mean talking, no violence I promise."

"Good. I don't like seeing you hurt."

I continue to hold her as the minutes tick by. As I do I can feel all the tension draining out of my body, through my feet and into the stage floor. It amazing what just holding Rachel does to me. I feel so blissfully relaxed and contented. Rachel eventually breaks the comfortable silence.

"You know, I don't think friends usually hold each other like this," her tone is a little teasing.

"I don't care," I say breezily.

"You don't care huh?" there is something about her voice that is sending off a little warning bell in my head. "You don't care that we're not acting like two platonic friends in this moment?"

"No, I just need to hold you,"

"Well then…" she trails off as buries her face into the crook of my neck. I'm wondering what all that was about until I feel it. Her lips on my skin. Soft full lips on my neck in a slow kiss that sends as shiver through me making my knees go weak. And another higher up. _Oh God._

"Oh God, Rach. What…mmm...what are you doing?" My body flushes with arousal under her ministrations. She's gradually moved up, gently sucking under my jaw. The sensations of her wet mouth on me make my core throb deliciously.

"Paying you back for this morning," it's a murmur against my skin that sends another wave of heat through me.

"Mmm Rach…oh God, that feels so good…mmm…you have to…oh…you have to stop…I can't…" My hand has betrayed me, acting on its own as it weaves into her hair, holding her closer to me. My other hand helplessly clenches and unclenches at the material of her shirt, occasionally palming the flesh underneath.

"You're kind of sending me mixed messages here, Quinn. Are you sure you want me to stop?" She punctuates her question with a graze of her teeth to my skin, my stomach tightens.

"No," I'm breathless, "I don't want you to stop," she rewards me by lathing her tongue over the newly sensitised skin, I moan loudly. "Uuh…but you have to…have to stop,"

"Just a sec," she mumbles. Softer than a whisper she blows a gentle stream of cool air over the area she has been working on then presses a final kiss to the cooler skin. With that she detaches herself. "Okay I'm done." She says airily as she makes her way over to her bag, pulling out her lunch, leaving me standing there with my eyes half closed too aroused to move. "You know, anytime you're ready to talk to me about things you think I should know about you, I'm all ears." Her casual tone mocks me, as if she was giving me incentive to speed things along by devouring my neck.

"You know, you're getting negative points for trust right now," I ground out while willing my body back under control.

"Totally worth it. Besides you only have yourself to blame. Have you any idea much you affected me this morning? I had to take a cold shower, Quinn. I hate cold showers. They do nothing to help my voice. So you don't get to give me the lecture right now, we'll call it even. Now come sit and have lunch." She commands me.

My motor control comes back jerkily. I grab my lunch and sit far away from her on the edge of the stage, I stare out at the empty seats because I can't even look at her when all my body wants to do is push her up against the piano and ravish her, punish her for making me feel this way. I may not be looking, but I swear I can sense her smirking at me.

I can't last much longer like this, I need a new game plan. I think I need to stop any physical contact with her, it's always the catalyst. It's going to hurt me to not touch her at all but it should give me better control over my desires.

I can't tell her what I am yet because the truth is…I'm scared. As open minded as she is, I still have lingering doubts, and I'm just scared. I'm scared of losing her, I'm scared of what it will do to me, I'm scared of the agony I know it will cause me because even the _thought_ of not having her causes me physical pain. I used to think of myself as brave, hardened for battle, but in the face of love and potential rejection…I'm nothing but a coward. 

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel's POV<strong>

Quinn is oddly quiet for the rest of lunch. Her expression is the perfect picture of deep thought and is so even as she leaves. I don't even get a goodbye hug, and barely a smile. Not for the first time in my life, I curse my impatience. Patience has never been a strong suit of mine and now I feel like my lack of it has finally really made a mess of things. I've pushed Quinn. Maybe too far this time. I should have listened to myself yesterday when I thought Quinn was purposefully avoiding my calls, but all my self criticism seemed to be voided the moment Quinn threw herself into my arms. There she was being loving and caring and I was more than willing to take everything she gave and more…again.

During lunch she held me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world and yet she was still restrained, and I thought, perhaps naïvely, that all she needed was a little push. Something to make her see what she was missing, what things could be like if she just opened up to me. However, I fear all I've done is made her more closed off to me than ever. I risked a step forward due to my impatience and ended up taking three giant leaps back. If I'm in the carriage, whipping the driver, how long until the driver packs it in all together? Seeing how she reacted scared me. I'm scared of losing her, I'm scared of my own selfishness and impatience pushing her away.

I need to stop getting into a position where I'm tempted to push. I need to stop getting so physically close to her, it always makes me want more. I need to get better control over my desires and if that means not even touching Quinn then so be it.

With this in mind, I simultaneously gear myself up for the rest of the day from hell. I walk into biology, and to my surprise there aren't any snickers or loud gossiping about me, so far so good. About twenty minutes into the lesson I still have my guard up waiting for the next spit ball or note with an insultingly ugly picture of me on it, but nothing comes. My senses are on heightened alert on my surrounding classmates as I reach for my bag for a pencil. I keep my eyes on them as I hear a few stray giggles as I bend, waiting for someone to put a thumb tack on my chair behind me or something. I blindly fumble in my bag hoping to find what I'm looking for quickly and straighten up from this vulnerable position. _Come on pencil where are you?_

"AAAAAHHHH!" I scream and retract my hand from my bag at lightning speed. I jump out of my seat and away from my bag to the resounding outburst of hysterics from the class.

"Miss Berry, will you sit down!" The teacher yells at me. _The nerve of her to yell at me like that, I'm the victim here!_

"NO, I will not sit down there is something moving in my bag!" I felt it. Instead of the smooth wood of pencil my fingers grazed against something that had no business amongst my belongings. It was slimy and moving and jumped the moment I touched it…hence the screaming and the rocketing out of my chair. In my fumbling my bag was knocked over and now squirming its way out of the fabric is a large frog, which leaps as soon as it reaches daylight. This time I'm not the only one who screams, my teacher does also. _Serves you right you contemptible woman. _

Once the obviously frightened but still slimy creature is returned to the tank it was stolen from the class returns to some semblance of calm again, though the sniggering at my expense continues for quite some time. Despite the removal of the creature I still empty and repack my bag twice before leaving the class to make absolutely sure it no longer contains any unwanted stowaways.

To my surprise the next class is uneventful. And so is the one after that. In fact I don't receive so much as a sneer or giggle from any of my typical tormentors for the rest of the day. My mind drifts back to what Quinn said at lunch, _"This will be over before the day is, I promise." _Had she done it, had she made it stop? I pull out my phone.

**R: I don't know what you did, and I don't think I want to know…but thank you x **

I wait a couple of minutes for the reply.

_Q: Don't thank me, just forgive me for this happening in the first place. I'm so sorry x_

**R: You're amazing, you know that? You have nothing to be sorry for. I've officially dubbed you my Gold Knight ;) x**

_Q: Lol Gold? X_

**R: Blonde Knight just didn't sound right in my head x**

_Q: Of course ;) I like my new title x _

**R: Can I get a ride with my Knight home? X**

_Q: As long as you don't mind waiting until I've done my time in the stocks x_

**R: I don't mind waiting for you ;) x**

It's difficult to convey as much meaning as I wanted through text but I hope she understood I wasn't just referring to the lift home. I really am going to wait for her this time.

I'm standing at my locker getting my song sheets ready for Glee, when my thoughts drift to last night. All this talk of knights has got me thinking about my other saviour, the vigilante. I admit I woke up this morning feeling less overwhelmed and a lot more curious. I still believe it may have been fate that brought us together, but now I'm wondering why. Am I supposed to help her? Who is this woman? What does she look like? Does she look as inhuman as her abilities suggest? Or can she pass? Maybe she has a job somewhere? Maybe she is Mrs Thomas the librarian by day and vigilante by night.

"Hey, Rachel."

There must be some way of finding her or contacting her, like a Bat-signal.

"Rach?"

No that's silly, it's too conspicuous.

"Rachel?" _Huh? Oh it's Finn._

"Oh hey, Finn," I say distractedly. Maybe she has a secret hideout somewhere like a lair.

"…wondering since we sing so well together in Glee…" But what are the chances of finding her lair? "…I mean we obviously have chemistry on stage…" Lima may not be huge but it certainly isn't small, a search like that could take months. "…plus I'm the Quarterback of the football team…" Maybe I would have better luck just staking-out some of the dodgy areas in town and wait for her to show. "…so how is does Friday sound?" _Oh Finn's asking me something…what was he talking about?_

"I'm sorry, Finn, can you repeat the question please?" Finn stares at me indignantly.

"Rachel, I'm asking you out here. Friday, Breadsticks, you and me." _Oh._

"Sorry, Finn, I'm not interested." A stake-out seems like the best option, but I don't want to go alone. Maybe I could ask Quinn.

"Rachel, didn't you hear what I said?" He sounds irritated.

"Yes I did and I declined. I'll see you in Glee, Finn." I close my locker and walk to Glee. Would Quinn go along with it? 

* * *

><p><strong>Quinn's POV<strong>

Searching for Santana at lunch yields no results, so I'm waiting by her locker between classes for her to show up. I sure hope this works. I need to end this war and spare Rachel anymore of this treatment.

_Hurry up, Santana. I made a promise to Rachel._

"Hey, Quinn,"

But what if it doesn't work? What if it makes things worse?

"Quinn?"

I can't do to her what I did to Jacob. I promised myself not to physically bully these students like that again.

"Quinn?" _Huh? Oh it's Finn._

"Oh sorry, Finn. Hey," I mumble distractedly. What if she sees right through my bluff because of course I would never do anything that would affect Brittany.

"…wondering since we see each other in our tutoring sessions all the time…" This is my only bargaining chip. "…and you're like the hottest girl at this school…" I just have to be confident. "…and I'm the Quarterback of the football team, we obviously have chemistry…" If she cares for Brittany half as much as I care for Rachel than she won't take that risk. "…so how does Friday sound?" _Oh Finn asked me something…what was he saying?_

"I'm sorry, Finn, I wasn't really listening, can you repeat the question?" He looks at me indignantly.

"Quinn, I'm asking you out on a date, to Breadsticks on Friday." I see Santana coming down the hallway, here's my chance.

"No." I say firmly over my shoulder to Finn as I make my way to Santana. He looks shocked by the rejection but I don't care. I've got a promise to fulfil to my mate.

"Afternoon, Santana," I say pleasantly as I lean against the lockers nearby.

"Well look at you, Skittles. Oh did I do that?" She feigns concern as she points to my multicoloured bruised face. "That wasn't very nice of me was it? Here let me kiss it all better for you," she leans in to kiss my face and I hold up a hand to stop her, un-amused. "But I just wanna taste the rainbow, baby," she says with a pout.

"My rainbow is not for tasting. I have a proposition for you,"

"Well it's clearly not sex otherwise you would be letting me taste your rainbow. This is your mistake because I would pretty much do anything to find your pot of gold," she husks while running a finger down my abs.

"I don't think Brittany would be very happy to hear about that,"

"Why would I care? Brittany and I aren't dating,"

"Maybe you haven't called it official but I know you care a lot about Brittany, you certainly wouldn't want to see her hurt," My tone is hinting and she shifts, scrutinising me closer.

"You better not be threatening Britt-Britt or you will be in a world of pain," she growls at me. I'm silent for a moment with a slight smirk on my face.

"Did you know I tutor Brittany in pretty much every subject?"

"She may have mentioned it, why?" Her gaze is still hard. I pull out a file from my bag.

"This is Brittany's file that I just happened to come across in the Principle's office file cabinet, and in here, amongst other things, are her predicted grades,"

"That's supposed to be confidential, Columbo," I ignore her and plough on.

"What I found interesting are her two most recent grade predictions. One was a couple of months ago and was much like the rest, failing grades mostly, one of her assignments wasn't even graded because she wrote about ducks instead of sub-atomic Quarks in physics, her title was 'You spelt Quacks wrong'." I see a hint of an adoring smile on Santana's face before it morphed back into and angry scowl. "The latest one was this week. Would you like to have a look? I think you will be pleasantly surprised." She snatches the paper from my hand and scans it quickly, her eyebrows rising in surprise as she reads. They're all passing grades, some creeping up to pretty decent.

"This is a result of me tutoring her for a week. Imagine what she can achieve if I continue for the rest of the year. I could get her into any college she wanted, maybe even the same one you're going to." Her eyes scan me, I can tell she's thinking deeply. "Have you noticed how much happier she's been now that she understands what's going on in class?" I see the recognition in her eyes and I know that she's noticed.

"What's your point, Skittles?"

"Call off the hounds on me and Rachel and I make sure Brittany stays happy and I guarantee to get her into any college of her choosing."

"Are you going to out us?" she asks apprehensively.

"That's not my place," I assure her.

"What's to stop me outing you and Berry?"

"Go ahead, I don't mind. I don't think she would either. But that also isn't your place to do so,"

"Listen I don't get pushed around, that's why I'm HBIC and that's why you have a hit on you in the first place-"

"I'm not trying to undermine you as HBIC, I don't want that title and I don't care if you keep it. Whatever else you do in this school is your business, but I'm telling you that Rachel is off limits. And if you want what's best for Brittany you'll make sure of that." My gaze is hard and I stare her down.

"Fine, but I still have a problem with you because I still have a week's detention to suffer through with you,"

"Fine. Make the call." I say neutrally. She pulls out her phone from her bag and types a message into. She shows it to me for my approval before sending it.

"There global text sent. You know if we just had sex you wouldn't have to bother with any of this." She smirks at me.

"That's not an option."

"Give it time, I bet you'll come crawling to me after you finish with Berry," with that she walks off with a sway in her hips.

Towards the end of school Rachel texts me and I sigh in relief to know that it has all stopped. _Gold Knight huh?_ Silly but I like it. I want to assume she means more than waiting until I get out of detention when she tells me she doesn't mind waiting for me. That thought gets me through Sylvester's detention of torture with a smile on my face. 

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel's POV<strong>

When Quinn drops me off home with little more than a wave and a smile, I set about putting my stake-out plan into action. I retrieve all the pens I can find and I set about making a list of everything I know about the vigilante and put them into categories, physical description, characteristics, super powers etc. I search online for all the newspaper articles hinting at the possibility of the vigilante. I grab a map of Lima and make notes of all the places the vigilante has been sighted and colour code them according to whether they were actual interactions or passing visual sightings. A pattern emerges fairly quickly, most of the sightings being in down town Lima, the dodgy areas of town, including Lima Heights Adjacent.

I start searching the house for appropriate stake-out gear, binoculars, thermos etc when the house phone rings, distracting me.

"Dads can you get that?" Silence._ Oh right, they're out together for their date night. _I trudge downstairs to the annoyingly disruptive phone call.

"Hello?"

"_Hello my name is Dr Hunter_ _I'm trying to get hold of Dr Leroy Berry,"_

"I'm afraid he's not here right now. Can I take a message?" I'm searching for a pen as I speak. Where did all the pens go?

"_Yes, have you got a pen?"_

"Yes," It's a lie. I don't have a pen. I don't know why I lied, it was automatic. Now I really have to find a pen. I start searching in the most random places for pens like the kitchen and the bathroom, not even thinking about checking my school bag or my room.

"_Can you just tell him that Dr Hunter from Oncology needs him to ring him back on 0, 2…" _I still have no pen, why are there no pens in this house? He's already started saying the number. _Oh no._ I panic. I have no choice I'll just have to remember it.

"0, 2…" I repeat, pretending to write it down.

"_7, 8, 3…"_

"7, 8, 3…" _okay it was 02783…so far so good._

"_4, 4, 6, 9…" _

"4, 4, 6, 5…"

"_No 6, 9," _

"Sorry 6, 9…" _I'm officially lost. What was before 69? Was there even a 5?_

"_7, 2."_

"7, 2 okay," There's a pause. I have a sense of dread he is going to ask me that question that I have no hope in answering. Sure enough I seem to have given him enough doubt in my phone number taking skills for him to ask:

"_Can you read that back to me?" _No I can't.I'm going to have to come clean. This is humiliating.

"Listen I'm very sorry but…I lied about the pen,"

"_You lied about the pen?"_

"Yes I couldn't find one so I was trying to remember the number but you confused me with 6's and 5's or was it 6's and 9's? So basically I don't have the number. If you can wait I will find a real pen and we can start again." All I hear is laughing down the end of the phone. I eventually get the message.

After that embarrassing debacle is over I decide it's time to text Quinn. Best to say as little about it as possible for now, I just need to get her over here. 

* * *

><p><strong>Quinn's POV<strong>

My masked hood quietly beeps at me informing me of an incoming message. Yes I did manage to connect a phone system to the inside of my suit. One of the screens over my eyes fills with a message from Rachel.

**R: Are you busy? X**

Am I busy? Depends what you call busy. I'm currently hanging upside-down in the air buy one foot. I'm using some spare time to get in some more practise with my flight suit…it's not going that well. I voice activate my reply.

_Q: Not really, what's up, Rach?_

**R: Can you come over?**

_Q: Sure : ) x _

Yes I did have to say 'insert smiley face'.

**R: Oh and wear dark clothing x**

_Q: Huh? Why? X_

I get no reply so I ease myself upright and back onto the ground before returning home to change. I slip on a black jacket over a long sleeved black top and jeans, and hope that I'm not about to be an accomplice in a bank robbery. On my way out I grab the keys to the Ferrari just for a change.

When I arrive Rachel opens the door so quickly I though perhaps she was waiting behind it.

"Oh good you're here, take this," she shoves a folder into my arms, "that's for you to read through. Now back in the car and I will explain everything on the way. Oh good you brought a black car, perfect." The door is slammed in my face and Rachel is somewhere behind me walking to the car. To say I'm confused would be an understatement.

We're driving to a completely random street at Rachel's instructions.

"Rach, am I going to be arrested tonight? I feel like I should give my parents adequate warning,"

"Don't be silly we're not doing anything illegal,"

"Oh good because I was worried what with the black camouflage and spy gear,"

"This is stake-out gear,"

"Stake-out? Who are we staking-out?"

"The vigilante of course," As if that was obvious.

"Of course how silly of me. Forgive me, I haven't had a chance to read through what I assume is the briefing on this operation," I gesture to the folder she gave me, "…why are we staking-out the vigilante?"

"So we can make contact and learn more about her,"

"Oh…why?"

"Why? What do you mean why? Aren't you curious about her? Don't you want to see her super powers in action? And find out if she really is an alien?" _Not really, I already know._

"Sure I guess, but how do you expect to find her?"

"I'm glad you asked. I have cleverly mapped out all the areas of Lima she has been spotted and marked prime stake-out locations. We also have a lead to follow, a Miss Jennifer Binley a.k.a Yasmin, is an exotic dancer that was rescued from an attempted rape by the vigilante just last week. I don't have an address but her place of work was listed. However, the club doesn't open till nine, so we have plenty of areas to stake out until then." I'm actually incredibly impressed, she is extremely organised. I feel a little bad that she's won't find the vigilante tonight because she will be at her side all night.

"That's really impressive, Rach,"

"I know." She beams. "We're approaching our first location…this engine is too loud. Don't you have some kind of stealth mode on this thing?" She scans the various buttons on the dash with confusing acronyms.

"This is a Ferrari not a Batmobile…or a Prius there is no stealth mode,"

"Fine," she huffs and slouches back in her seat, "we'll just lose the element of surprise." I chuckle because this isn't the only flaw in this stake-out. "There. Park there." She points to some on-street parking on a wide road, specifically to a space right at the end near a crossroad, that admittedly has a great view point of all four roads. I do as instructed and turn the engine off.

"Rach, don't you think it's a bit unlikely that she would hang out at the same spots every night? And what if this is one of her off nights? Or we just miss her when we move somewhere else?"

"Then we just have to hope we get lucky," she says while settling in to get comfortable.

"Right,"

A few minutes roll by. Rachel has been keeping active watch scanning the surrounding area and occasionally checks things through the binoculars. I admire her dedication but I'm getting board. There's no point in me looking because I know I'm sitting right here and I'm not about to see myself leaping down the street. When my hand was slapped away from the radio, I grab the folder she gave me instead and start reading through. I have to suppress my giggles when I read through the vigilante's characteristics: 'Noble intentions, possibly delusional, fairly polite for someone who refuses to speak – case example, she bows – somewhat old fashioned manners'. Well how else was I supposed to show her I meant no harm without speaking and giving myself away?

"Okay times up. Next location." Rachel suddenly pipes, startling me a bit. I check my watch, exactly 20 minutes has passed. She really has though this through.

And so it goes like this for a while, we stop at new location, wait twenty minutes and move on. Each area slightly more run-down then the last. We stop again and I'm immediately on full alert feeling very exposed in our prime viewing location in a particularly rough part of Lima. I scan the surrounding area diligently.

"Well I'm glad to see you're finally really getting into this," Rachel says with a pleased smile.

"I'm not checking for the vigilante so much as keeping an eye out for anyone who might try to steel the car," I confess. Rachel's expression becomes a little worried.

"Could that happen?"

"Well we are sitting in a very expensive super car outside an old crack house…I think there is a very real possibility."

"Don't you own any non flashy vehicles? You know like a normal car?" I level her with a look that tells her the answer is pretty much a 'no'. "Let's just move on shall we?"

"Good idea,"

"You know what we should do?" Rachel starts while we're driving. "We should come up with a superhero name for her,"

"I thought vigilante had stuck now,"

"It's not good enough and doesn't really say how super she is," I chuckle.

"Okay, why don't you start us off?"

"Okay so Superwoman is too boring and clichéd. The name needs to say something about her, okay so things we know about her, she wears a dark green suit and can jump great distances…how about The Jade Jumper…or The Lady Leaper," I snort a laugh.

"Sounds like she leaps over ladies, plus leaper sounds too much like leper,"

"…The Vixen Vigilante…The Vivacious Vixen…The Alien Avenger,"

"How do we know if she's avenging anything?"

"Good point. …The Green Ranger…The Green Guardian…"

"Green Guardian isn't half bad. What else can you say about her?"

"Well she was certainly in shape, like really toned; the suit looked like it had been painted on…such a great body…" Rachel trails off with a dreamy look in her eyes. I feel a twinge of something I don't like…wait a minute.

_Are you jealous?_

…_maybe._

_She's talking about you, you fool._

_Yeah but she doesn't know that. For all she knows she is sitting here with me drooling over some other woman. I think I have some right to be a little annoyed._

_But she's drooling over your body, remember that. You can't accuse her of thinking about someone else because that someone is you._

"…maybe something like, Sexy Saviour…Seducing Saviour…Curvaceous Killer, no too negative…The Hot Hopper…The Alien Allurer…" She still looks caught up in her little fantasy and I'm becoming agitated.

"No to all of them. Can we talk about something else?" She looks at me curiously.

"Are you…are you jealous?" There's an annoying smirk on her lips.

"No, I'm not. I'm just tired of talking about her,"

"You are jealous. Oh Quinn, there's no need to be. You have nothing to worry about. She's hasn't got anything over you."

"No just super powers and the fact she saved your life," I'm pouting and grumbling like a child.

_Seriously what is wrong with you, Quinn? You did save her life and you do have superpowers._

_Yeah but she doesn't know that._

_Oh this could go on for a while._

"Quinn, stop the car a minute," I pull over and stop. "Okay look at me," I reluctantly meet her eyes. "Quinn, I want you. Nobody else but you. You are charming, caring, smart and so beautiful and…sexy. You are the most amazing person I've ever met, period. …Plus your arse is way better than hers," she smirks playfully at me.

_Does my arse not look that good in my suit?_

_Seriously, Quinn? That's what you want to focus on?_

I take a deep breath and sigh out, "I'm sorry, I'm being immature and maybe a little irrational," Rachel chuckles.

"Who said jealousy had to be rational?"

"Good point. I guess I was having an insecure moment,"

"That's hard to believe, I don't know anyone more perfect than you," Her eyes melt me with their sincerity. I feel the air between us shift in that all too familiar way, and all I want to do right now is lean over and kiss her.

"I would kiss you right now, but…"

"Yeah…I know," she looks wistful for a moment, "What we need is a distraction so this is a perfect time to head to the strip club don't you think?" I laugh.

We get into the club without any problems, which surprised me. They didn't even bother asking for ID. I don't know whether it was because of the car we showed up in, the fact that we were both women, the fact that we are both attractive women, or all of the above. It doesn't really matter because the important thing is that we're in and I've never been so completely flabbergasted in my life.

My eyes are like saucers as I take in everything going on in the club. It all just screams sex at me and I drift into a weird trance of fascination. On Caelum sex was never advertised because people only ever had sex with their mates. Coming to Earth was a complete culture shock for me because here, everything is about sex. I got use to it after a while, and sure I've watched sex scenes in films and seen episodes of Sex in the City, but none of that apparently prepared me for seeing it all thrown in my face.

On every other seat in the room there are women giving sensuous lap dances for men and in a few dark corners the lap dances look suspiciously less like dancing and more like grinding. The deep base music pumps loudly through the club but it doesn't quite cover the moans of some of the patrons. My eyes are drawn to a woman on stage, her features are not that dissimilar to Rachel's, petite, long dark hair, dark eyes, tanned and toned. I'm hypnotised by her movements as she works her body effortlessly around a pole. Skin and metal slide seamlessly over each other. Her movements are slow and sensual, but she draws the audience in with her eyes. Smouldering eyes that remind me of the look Rachel gets sometimes, the dangerous look that says 'I want you. Right here, right now'.

"Quinn…Quinn!"

"Yeah?" I say distractedly, not being able to tear my eyes from the woman on stage.

"I've talked to the manger," _Really? When did she do that? _"Jennifer Binley is back stage, we can go talk to her,"

"Who?"

"The lead we came to see, remember?" She sounds irritated. I wonder why that is. "Quinn!" she snaps her fingers in front of my face. I blink and turn to her. She looks pissed.

"Yeah, Rach?"

"Come on, let's go before you start drooling on yourself." She tugs at my arm until I follow her. I glance back at the stage one last time to see the dancer lock eyes with me and wink. Rachel drags me back stage past all the women preparing for their various acts, her grip on my wrist is hard until we reach a woman I recognise sitting in front of a row of make-up mirrors. She looks much the same as she did the other night, long straight brown hair, bright blue eyes and a young face, she couldn't be much older than twenty. She's sitting a small black robe; her exposed skin is bronzed and shimmers slightly as she applies her make-up.

"Excuse me, Miss Binley?" Rachel asks politely. The woman looks up, a little surprised.

"Yes, that's me." She says quizzically.

"My name is Rachel Berry, this is Quinn Fabray. We'd like to talk to you if you have a spare minute?" She appraises us both, her eyes landing on me a beat longer, before she smiles slightly.

"You have exactly ten before I'm due out on the floor," she says with a raised eyebrow.

"This hopefully shouldn't take that long. We wanted to ask you about the experience you had with the vigilante last week," Jennifer's eyes narrow slightly.

"Are you two Press?"

"No nothing like that. I actually had an encounter with the vigilante myself last night, she saved me from an attack from five men. It's made me very curious about her and I was wondering if you could share with me what you know. I'm hoping to contact her again." Her eyebrow is back on its high perch. She sits back and studies us again, twirling her mascara between her fingers.

"I'm not sure if there is much that I know. I certainly don't know how to contact her. Have you tried escaped mental patients?" _That's rude._

"Yes I've already looked into that," _I can't believe her. Do I just scream insane or something? _"If you could just tell us what happened in your experience with her, it might give us some clues."

"Okay sure, worth a shot right?" She chucks down her mascara and clasps her hands over a folded knee. "It was last…Tuesday night, I had just finished my shift when two of my last clients approached me, asking me to extend my services, if you catch my drift," Rachel nods, "I'm used to dealing with guys like that all the time, but they were particularly persistent and things got out of hand. They pushed me to the floor to rape me and then the next thing I know they are having the shit kicked out of them by a woman in a skin tight suit and they're both out cold in seconds." She speaks mostly to Rachel but her eyes keep drifting to me.

"Yeah my experience wasn't too dissimilar. Can you tell me anything more about the vigilante herself?" Rachel presses.

"Well her suit was dark green but kind of shimmered gold. Her mask was hooded and her eyes were shielded by some kind of reflective grey material, so I couldn't see them. She seemed polite and sincere, but I think she might be a little crazy, I mean who goes round pretending to be a superhero?" _Hey! I don't think I like this woman._

"Did you speak to her?"

"I spoke, she didn't," Rachel nods again.

"Did you notice anything particularly unusual like strange abilities?"

"Well she was really fast and strong, had great fighting technique," I smirk to myself a little at this. She's redeeming herself to me.

"Anything else you noticed?" Rachel probes hopefully.

"No, only that she was the strong, quiet type," she eyes me a moment, dragging her gaze over me making me feel naked under her piercing blue eyes before standing up and stepping into my personal space. "Kind of like you," her voice drops a little lower. Her eyes lock with mine and she leans further into me. "Some people just have that, that presence about them. I find it…really…attractive," she drawls out while playing with the lapels of my jacket. She bites her lip coyly at me. "How about a lap dance? It's on the house." I open my mouth to decline but Rachel beats me to it.

"She's spoken for and the answer is no thank you," her voice is edged with irritation. "Thank you for your time. We're leaving now." I just about see Jennifer's disappointed reaction before I'm being dragged through the club again. Rachel physically shoves me out the front entrance.

"Rachel, I'm walking, can you stop shoving me?"

"Well forgive me for assuming you had no control over your motor functions," she spits at me.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well I assume you had no control because otherwise you would have pushed her away, or were you just enjoying flirting with her?" Her tone is icy.

"Flirting? Rachel I didn't even say anything, but I was about to decline her politely before you did it for me."

"Yeah right, you were probably thinking about saying yes weren't you and maybe even getting a lap dance from the girl on stage while you were at it." Rachel is seething and I'm just very confused.

"Rachel that's ridiculous!" Her eyes flash with anger. She draws her shoulders rigid and pins me with a hard glare.

"Just get in the car and drive. We're done for the night." She growls.

"Good!" I'm just as angry as her now because of her accusations. "I'm fed up of driving around town for this stupid stake-out anyway!" I lash out before getting in the car.

"Well you didn't have to come on this 'stupid' stake-out!" She punctuates with a slam of the car door once she's inside. I peel off immediately.

"Like I had a choice!" I spit.

"So if you had a choice you would rather be enjoying what those strippers had to offer huh?" Where's a good solid gear lever when you need one? It's better than these stupid flappy paddles on the steering wheel that are no good for taking your frustrations out on.

"No, Rachel! I was just overwhelmed, I'm not used to seeing that kind of thing. We're not all sex freaks you know!"

"Are you calling me a sex freak?" She screams at me indignantly.

"If the shoe fits..."

She throws her hands up and ends up whacking the roof of the car. "Argh! I can't believe you! I only ever have sexual feelings for you! That does not make me a sex freak! Unlike you who is quite happy drooling over pole dancers!" She seethes.

"That's because she looked like you! And I was thinking about YOU!" I shout, slamming my palm against the steering wheel and glaring at her for a moment before I have to turn my angry stare back to the defenceless road.

"Was that supposed to be flattering?" She snarks, crossing her arms over her chest unimpressed with my caveman routine.

"No I was trying to make a point. You don't need to be jealous because I only ever think about you!"

"I have every reason to be jealous when attractive women are throwing themselves at you!" She snaps.

I fist a hand in my hair frustrated. "But I don't want them. I. WANT. YOU!...God, how many times do I have to say this?"

"Lots more because I like hearing it!" Just like that the argument shifts. I glance over at her. Her chest is heaving against her seat belt. Her eyes are crackling but I'm not seeing anger anymore. She's charged and alive and…aroused.

"Fine! I want you!" _Right now._

"Good! I want you too!" My breathing picks up, I lick my suddenly dry lips and swallow roughly. We're already pulling up to her house. I may have been driving a bit fast.

"Good!" It's more of a rasp then a yell. I park the car and we both abuse the car doors as we exit. "Are we still arguing?" My voice is still raised but the edge to it is considerably lacking.

"Yes! I need to stay angry to distract myself from how hot you look when you're mad!" She snarls.

I step closer. "Well that's fine with me because you look like sex personified right now!" She's flushed, her eyes are hooded and intensely dark. Her lips are parted as she pants slightly. I feel that familiar draw to her, it's pulling me in. Suddenly she steps away from me.

"I'm going to go inside now!" It's less forceful then I think she hoped, her voice is a little raw. I get it. We need to keep playing this game, keep up the pretence of an argument otherwise we're going to jump each other.

"Good idea!"

"You will pick me up tomorrow morning!" She orders.

"Fine!" I yell at her.

"Good!" She spits.

"Well goodnight!" I growl.

"Goodnight!" She snarls.

"Have sweet dreams!" I snark.

"Sweet dreams to you too!" She hisses then slams the door in my face.

I can't help it. I start laughing and don't stop until I get home.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N – Sorry for the delay.

2nd A/N – Wanted to say thank you to executime for helping me bounce around some humorous ideas for this chapter. And thank you to my new beta mschfmngd.

3rd A/N – English to American English dictionary – Sweets = Candy. My apologies for any confusion.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

Not the Singing and Dancing Type of Alien

_I'm weak. Too weak to properly carry the weapon I fashioned from a piece of steel that I sharpened into a crude blade. It hangs limply from my hand, dragging along the stone behind me as I walk. The sound of metal steadily and continuously grating against stone echoes off the walls of the buildings as I slowly drag my small feet down a familiar street. My eyes have adjusted to the lack of light over time, but all I see now is the broken and decrepit buildings that line the street. No longer tall and proud, just a bleak and haunting reminder of a once great nation brought swiftly to its knees. My clothes are torn and stained. They cling damply to me from lingering sweat and damp air. I can't remember the last time I ate. Maybe it was before all this started. Maybe it was when I was sitting in town with my father before the eclipse. My mind is hazy. I haven't allowed myself more than a few minutes of dozing at a time. Even when I curl myself into well hidden crevices, every slight noise startles me awake. I'm too afraid to let my guard down long enough to rest properly._

_All I've done since the eclipse began is search for survivors and pick my battles with Raegas carefully. Small numbers I can handle, but large groups have me running and hiding for my life and praying that they don't pick up my scent. _

_I stop, the blade coming to a scraping halt as I do. I'm standing in front of my old school. It's difficult to say how long it's been since I walked in on a normal school day, time has lost meaning, but standing before it now fills with a warm sense of nostalgia. I loved school and I particularly loved science. My science teacher always had a ready smile, and every day he would come in with a new star constellation drawn on his forearm. During the class he would come round to each of us, and we would whisper to him which constellation we thought it was. If we were right, he would give us a sweet. I learned all of the constellations by heart and, therefore, always got my sweet._

_Sweets. Food. I'm so hungry. My hazy mind manages to make the connection between the school cafeteria and food. Beautiful, mouth watering food. Meats, fruits, cakes and all manner of tinned goods could be sitting in there waiting for me. I dare myself to hope. _

_The corridors look different to me in the dark. Without the warm glowing light of the sun streaming through the windows, the place is gloomy and cheerless. The sound of a quick barking cry has my blade raised in an instant. The surge of adrenaline sharpens my mind and puts my body on edge. With slow footsteps I slink quietly towards the direction of the sound. A cacophony of noise fades into my senses as I approach the cafeteria. Bangs and scraps and growls from within fill me with dread. My weary soul is despaired._

_One of the doors is torn off its hinges; I slowly poke my head round. Three Raegas are ravaging the stores of food, my food. Two seem to be fighting amongst themselves over pecking order, while the third sits slightly away, chewing on something that looks distinctly like a Caelen arm._

_A Caelen arm with a drawing of a constellation. _

_My mind has checked out. With a hateful, raging, primal scream I tear into the room slashing wildly at the gorging beasts. The lone Raega gets my blade through the top of its head before it can even react to my presence. I rip my blade from its head and plunge it through the next charging Raega, and discard its body to the ground. The last circles me, giving me a wide birth. Sensing its opening, it lunges at me with a sharp swipe of claws that catches my side as I attempt to dodge it. I cry out in pain but swiftly swing my blade and slice at its side. It hunches over and I thrust my leg out, knocking over its unbalanced form and finish it off with a final drive of my blade._

_I take in the three lifeless forms as I catch my breath. The tension drains out of me and exhaustion takes over. My blade falls to the floor with a noisy clatter from my weakened grip. I turn towards the stores of food and start piling things into my arms. I slump onto the floor with my feast and survey the mess._

It's the constellation Mios_, I think to myself absently as I tuck into the sweets first._

* * *

><p>I wake up feeling ravenously hungry. The hunger pains are intense, as if I haven't eaten in weeks. The only thought I can process, the only word that makes sense to me right now is 'FOOD'. I scan my room with my eyes at lightning speed to try and determine if anything is edible. I briefly take a second glance at the flowers on my window sill before I burst out of my room, thunder downstairs and nearly yank the fridge doors off their hinges.<p>

_FOOD!_

Beautiful, mouth watering, delicious food. I dive right in grabbing handfuls of whatever my hands touch first, and shove it all straight into my mouth. Mmm food! Handful after handful, mouthful after mouthful, I chew and swallow and crave more.

"Quinnie? What are you doing?" My mother's voice is like white noise to me. "Quinn, that's quite disgusting will you at least sit down with a plate and a fork?" She moves to steer me away from the fridge, my eyes snap to her with a hard glare. She immediately recoils and backs a step away with her hands in surrender. "Oh dear. Quinn, are you feeling alright?" She asks hesitantly.

"I'm hungry." I state.

"I can see that. Would…would you like me to cook some of that up for you?" I shake my head and dive back into the fridge. "No, okay. Uncooked is fine, I guess. Just stay away from the raw meat."

Meat!

A nice juicy steak sits on the lower shelf. I'm straight in there.

"Russell!"

"Yes, honey. What- Oh my goodness! What's going on? …Is that raw meat?" He takes a step towards me. He can't have my food. It's mine. I turn myself to a defensive stance and level him with an intense stare. "Whoa, okay. Relax, sweetie."

"I need this food. It's mine." I mumble lowly.

"Yep all yours. No ones going to take it from you, I promise." His voice is calming and I relax a little. Keeping my eyes on him I go back to munching on the steak in my hand.

"Russell, do we need to-"

"No, she's just hungry. Aren't you, kiddo?" I nod emphatically. "We'll leave you to it, sweetheart. Take your time or you'll get indigestion."

"Shouldn't we stay just in case- Oh no! Not the cake for Mrs Prichard!" I look down at my handful of mushy cake. I feel a surprising amount of remorse at my mother's tone, but it's too late to save the cake now, so I might as well eat it. And I do.

Some time later, I'm slumped and sated on the ground in front of the now empty fridge. Actually, I'm so full I'm feeling a little sick, but my mind is clearer now. As I take in the mess of food around me I feel guilty and confused by my actions. It seems strange to me that the memory of my starving, child self would be strong enough for my body to relive that feeling once I awoke. But I felt it. That pure desperation for food, like I was about to die if I didn't eat.

I pick myself off the sticky floor and go about cleaning up the mess I made.

"I'll do that for you, sweetie," I turn to my mother in the doorway of the kitchen. She looks at me with sad eyes; I think she may have been crying. I hope it wasn't about the cake. I'll buy another one today.

"No it's my mess, I'll clean it. I'm so sorry, Mum. I don't know what came over me." I'm deeply remorseful and embarrassed. My mother moves to the sink and wets a clean cloth before approaching me, gently wiping off the stains on my face and hands. Once she finishes, she reverently strokes a warm hand through my hair.

"It's okay, please don't worry about it." Her gaze traces my features with a far away look. "My poor, beautiful, Quinnéowyn. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. But you're safe now, and you need never worry about food like that again. Okay?" Her voice cracks a little, I can see fresh tears in her eyes. I nod with tears of my own and throw myself into her arms. There is still so much left unsaid between us, but, for now that's okay. We're together as a family again, and despite everything, I don't think I've ever felt so happy to be with them. A hug like this from my mother can make the world feel alright again, and I'm realising just how much I missed it.

We hold each other tight, squeezing out the emotions we feel but can't vocalise.

"I'll get a new cake for Mrs Prichard," I mumble against her. I feel more than I hear her chuckle.

"That would be helpful." She pulls away gently. "You should go shower. Aren't you picking up Rachel for school?"

"Yeah."

"Then go get ready, don't keep her waiting. I'll clean this."

"Thank you, Mum."

"If you want to thank me, bring Rachel here tonight. I can't believe it's taking so long to meet her."

"It's only been a week."

"A week is a lifetime to an excited mother. Do I need to hit you with the Vogue again?" When I came home last night I stayed up watching TV with my mother. She was half watching TV and half reading Vogue magazine and suddenly she rolled it up and whacked me on the arm with it.

"_Ow, hey! What was that for?"_

"_Why haven't I met Rachel yet?" _

"_I don't know, there hasn't been time." She whacks me again, clearly not satisfied with the answer._

"_That's not an excuse. I should have met her last week." Whack. _

"_Ow, okay, I'm sorry. This week I promise."_

_Whack "Tomorrow." _

"_I'll try," She raises it again, "really hard. I'll try hard, okay, but I can't force her." Whack. "Fine I'll bring bound and gagged shall I?"_

"_Don't be silly, how am I supposed to talk to her while she's gagged?" Whack._

"No, please don't hit me with the Vogue, I'll ask her."

"Good, now go get ready for school."

* * *

><p>"You're joining Glee club." Rachel blurts a minute into our journey to school.<p>

"I am?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I wasn't aware that I had made that decision. When did this happen?"

"Today; and I've made it for you because we hardly get to see each other during school as we have none of the same classes, and I don't like it. Therefore, you are joining Glee club so we can spend more time together." She states matter of fact.

"While I'm delighted that you want to spend more time with me, I feel I must point out a flaw in this plan. Glee is singing and dancing for the purpose of entertainment. You are making a rather large assumption that I can do either of those things."

"Well you are good at everything else, why not this?" My eyebrow rises of its own accord. What kind of reasoning is that?

"Rachel, I'm smart and athletic, I'm not talented. I've never even tried singing before."

"Of course you have. Everyone sings once in a while. And if your singing is anything like your speaking voice, it would sound beautiful."

"Rach, I have NEVER sung before, not even along to the radio."

"Are you serious?" I nod firmly. "Well then Glee club will be then chance to find your voice." She says brightly. I sigh. _How do I get out of this?_

"I believe I would have to audition first, correct?" She nods. "What if I'm turned down?"

"I can be very influential. I am captain of the Glee club after all, and champion debater."

"So you're going to muscle me into the club?" I ask sceptically.

"If it comes to that, then yes. But I have strong belief in your abilities to get in on your own talent."

"What talent?"

"We'll find out today."

"Today? Rach, I still have detention."

"I know, which is why you are coming to the morning practise."

"That's in 15 minutes, Rachel! You want me to be prepared for an audition in 15 minutes?" I shriek.

"Luckily I'm highly prepared for you, and have a variety of song sheets and backing tracks."

"Rachel, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I think you're setting me up for public embarrassment. I have no idea if I can sing, and you want me to memorise a song in a few minutes."

"Can you do it?" _Yes._

"…That's beside the point." She looks at me expectantly for the rest of my argument. I think quickly. "You always work fastidiously to maintain and improve your singing talent. You know how important preparation is and yet you are giving me none." I reason.

"There is always time to improve later. You don't have to be perfect right away." It's like she has an upbeat answer for everything.

"Rachel, I'm going to put my foot down on this. I'M. NOT. JOINING."

* * *

><p><em>What am I doing here?<em>

I'm sitting in the choir room a few minutes later, wondering how I unsuccessfully put my foot down, maybe there were some loose stones or slippery algae. That's it. I slipped up, because Rachel turned those gorgeous doe eyes on me and I lost my balance…and my argument. Those eyes are like Kryptonite.

_That's lame, Quinn._

_I thought it was oddly appropriate._

_Mostly lame though. _

I'm looking around at the most random collection of people to ever be in the same room together. Jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, misfits…and now an alien. Even in a club for people who are out of place, I still definitely feel like I don't belong here.

I'm not sure if I'm the singing and dancing kind of alien. It's not like I sung my way out of difficult situations back on Caelum. I didn't stun Raegas with an improvisational dance number, which then everyone joined in on to turn it into a huge choreographed dance sequence that everyone miraculously knew the moves to. No, I killed, and maimed, and fought for my life and others. It was kill or be killed, not sing or be sung at.

There's some random argument going on. The gist is that someone slept with someone's else's boyfriend, who was also cheating with someone else's girlfriend…I don't really care. My eyes wander over to Kurt Hummel sitting to the side of the chaos, nonchalantly reading a copy of Vogue. I flinch. I think my mother has given me a complex. Is there such a thing as Voguephobia? Maybe I'm the first case.

Finally Mr Schuester comes in with Rachel in tow. She gives me an excited thumbs-up. I groan.

"Morning everyone! Settle down! …Now we have someone new with us this morning, Miss Quinn Fabray-"

"Skittles? What the hell are you doing here?" Santana interrupts having noticed me for the first time.

"I could ask the same thing, Santana."

"None of your business." She scorns.

"Well it's none of yours."

"Yay, Quinn's here!" Brittany claps excitedly. "Isn't that great, San?" Santana's eyes immediately soften as they land on an enthusiastic Brittany. I already know why Santana's here.

Mr Schuester clears his throat. "As I was saying, Quinn here will be auditioning for us this morning. Usually I do this in the afternoons without the rest of the club present but Rachel tells me you're unable to make afternoons currently, so I hope you don't mind the extra pressure, Quinn." He jokes at me good naturedly. _Sure no problem, what's a few more witnesses to my impending public humiliation?_

Mr Schuester seems to be in speech mode so he prattles on talking to me. "The Glee club is about getting to the route of a song and expressing your emotions. The best performances are always sung from the heart, so remember that. I'd love to hear any original songs, so if you have one you're welcome to share it. Take it away, Quinn."

There's a guitar set in the middle of the floor. Am I supposed to use that? I don't know how to play guitar. And an original song? Maybe I know enough guitar chords to do a Phoebe from Friends. I could strum a few chords while I yell lyrics like:

_Raegas, Raegas_

_What are you feeding on?_

_Raegas, Raegas_

_It's all your fault_

_You ate my friends_

_You can't make amends_

_So I'm stuck on Earth _

_While you claim my turf _

_But Earth ain't so bad _

_So I'm not that mad_

_They've been reviewed _

_And they've got great fooooood_

_Oh, Raegas, Raegas_

_What are you feeding on?_

…aaannnd so on. A random thought suddenly strikes me. I can't help but think that if anyone was reading my thoughts right now, and had no idea how that tune went, it would sound remarkably like a bad poem, but isn't that what most song lyrics are anyway? Shove in a good backing track and you've got yourself a hit.

I stand up. I'm sweating. This is exactly like one of those dreams where you're in front of an audience and you don't know the words, and then suddenly you're naked. I look down. _Oh thank God. I still have clothes. _

I glance at Rachel; she gives me another enthusiastic thumbs-up. I swallow. I know the words of the song she gave me to memorise but I can't open my mouth to sing. I'm not a singer, I'm a soldier. I don't belong in this club. I don't even belong on the Planet.

I feel sick. I don't know whether it's nerves or because I ate the entire contents of my fridge this morning. Maybe it's both but it doesn't matter because either way I think I'm- _Oh God, I'm gonna throw-up._

I clasp a hand over my mouth and bolt it out of the room.

I blur down the hallway and just make it to a toilet before I heave the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl; raw steak, Mrs Prichard's cake, all of it. I'm actually very relieved.

Sometime later I emerge from the cubicle and see Rachel standing by the sinks with a sympathetic look. _I hope she didn't hear me throw-up. That's not sexy_. I'm too embarrassed to look her in the eyes so I move to another sink and start rinsing out my mouth.

"I have my dental kit here. I even have a spare toothbrush and mouthwash, if you'd like." she broaches tentatively. I nod, and she hands me a little pink wash bag. I'm silent as go about getting the rancid taste out of my mouth. Rachel takes the opportunity of a toothbrush in my mouth as a chance for her to talk without being interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. It wasn't fair. I just…I love Glee club so much and I lo-like you." I noticed the slip and tried hard to suppress my giddy smile, "I just wanted you to be a part of it so I get to share that with you. I guess this would be a prime example of me wanting things too much." I open my mouth to protest but realise I would just be spitting toothpaste everywhere. Again, that's not sexy. "Sort of like the way I want you. I tend to act impulsively and not really think things through, particularly on how they affect anyone else. It's one of my larger flaws. I'm working on it, but it's going to take time. I'm just hoping you're not going to give up on me before then." Her vulnerability is so easy to read right now. It's in her voice, her words and body language. I want to hold her and reassure her, but I'm torn because of the promise I made to myself yesterday. If I hug her, I'm going to want more. It feels physically painful for me to hold myself back from comforting my mate; I have to grip the counter to stop myself from moving to her. Stiffly, I rinse out my mouth so I can speak.

"That's not going to happen, I can't quit you." I frown. That sounded like a line from Brokeback Mountain. Rachel noticed too, she giggles. I rub a hand over my face embarrassed. "Sorry, I just meant that my feelings for you are never going to change. I'm not upset over what just happened, and I don't blame you. I love that you want to share Glee club with me because it's so important to you. How about I just come to all your performances and sit in on your solos in Glee. I can't wait to hear you sing more, Rach, but is it okay if I'm just in the audience and not on stage with you?"

"I think I can live with that." She smiles at me. Again, I want to move in for a hug. I think I see Rachel twitch as if she just stopped herself from doing the same thing. "This would be one of those hug moments usually," she comments, "but I'm trying to hold back on the amount of physical contact between us because…well because." She blushes a little.

"Yeah I'm trying that too… How's, um, how's it working for you so far?"

"It's pretty hard."

"Yeah." I nod. She nods. We're nodding…still nodding. I mash my lips together, she bites hers. Our eyes glance around, both very much aware of the tension and trying to think our way out of it. "Dinner!" I blurt, she startles. "Sorry, um, would you like to come over to mine for dinner tonight? Please say yes. If you don't, I think I'm going to need therapy for Voguephobia." Her brow scrunches adorably.

"What?"

"Never mind. So can you make it tonight?" I ask hopefully. She beams at me, her whole face looks ready to burst with excitement.

"Yes, I'd love to!"

"Great!" I'm just as excited. We both move in for a hug… _Oh for fuck's sake!_ …and both pull back awkwardly at the last second. _This is stupid_. "How about a really quick hug?"

"Okay." She agrees readily.

"Okay." We both move into each other's embrace.

_Okay, good now pull back swiftly. Like ripping off a band-aid, Quinn. Like ripping off…the ripping, Quinn? ...Quinn?_

_Mmm hugs are nice._

_You're not even listening to me are you?_

_She feels good._

_Guess not. Rachel, it's down to you._

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel's POV<strong>

_Mmm hugs are nice._

_Rachel, it's supposed to be a quick hug._

_But she feels so good. I'll pull back when she does._

_She's not pulling back. I think it's down to us, let's practise that self control thing. _

_Do we have to?_

_It will make Quinn proud. And then she will trust us, and then she will tell us, and then…sexy times._

_Sexy times?_

_Yeah. _

_I'd like sexy times. _

_So pull back now._

_Okay._

_Okay. Way to go, Rachel! _

I reluctantly untangle myself from Quinn. I swear it's getting harder to pull away from her, or maybe it's because we haven't really touched since yesterday morning. That seems incredibly pathetic to me. A day without touching Quinn and I'm like a drug addict looking for a fix. What is it with us? Is this normal? Am I becoming one of those irrationally clingy, needy types? Maybe Quinn is one too. If so how does she get away with it and be so cool about it? Maybe she's just the really affectionate type. Maybe I'm needy, and she's affectionate but relatively controlled. _Damn her and her calm attitude._ Next to her I'm desperate.

I feel terrible for bullying Quinn into joining Glee. Not one of my brightest decisions and yet Quinn remains a saint, and isn't mad at me for putting her in that awkward position, making her so nervous she throws-up. What have I done to deserve someone who's so good to me? There's a catch somewhere, right? The thing that she has yet to tell me about herself that she thinks will push me away. But I know her, she is a wonderful person, kind and generous and noble. Why would I give that up?

I want to start guessing again, but I need some clues. Perhaps I might find some hints in her house later if I keep an open mind and my eyes peeled. I'm getting quite into this detective thing recently, first the vigilante and now Quinn. I wonder who will be easier to crack.

"I guess we need to work on the 'quick' part of that hug." Quinn suggests sheepishly.

"Perhaps the problem isn't the length of time of the hug, but the fact that we hugged in the first place."

"The hug was inevitable, it was a highly probable outcome considering the long duration of our proximity to one another."

"So you think we should spend less time together?" I frown.

"Should we? Yes. Will we? No."

"I like that answer." I smile. "So we stick to the old plan?"

"Yeah, keep physical contact to an absolute minimum." That's easier said then done apparently. I always end up gravitating towards Quinn, she draws me in with those damn eyes.

"If that's going to work, you need to stop looking at me like you do."

"Looking like what?"

"Like you want to devour me." She raises that eyebrow and smirks at me. _That's such a sexy look on her_. I bite my lip.

"Well then you need to stop biting your lip, it doesn't help." She teases, her voice dropping lower.

"Stop raising that sexy eyebrow." I counter, feeling flustered.

"Stop smiling gorgeously."

"Stop being charming."

"Stop being cute."

"Stop bantering with me." I growl.

"Stop…oh okay." Quinn realises I'm completely serious, and increases that distance between us that had at some point disappeared again. "I'll see you later then?" She asks bashfully.

"Yeah, see you later." I say a little breathlessly.

"Okay." She nods as she backs towards the door.

"Okay."

"Bye." She smiles shyly.

"Bye." I return the smile and give a small wave as she disappears out the door. Now alone, I let out a groan and slump back against the sinks. _This is impossible!_

* * *

><p>We're standing outside Quinn's front door. We have been for about a minute. Quinn is showing no signs of moving to let us in. She seems nervous, or at least as nervous as Quinn ever looks with her cool façade. She swallows, that's her only tell. Blink and you miss it. She doesn't even look tense, her posture is strong and calm like always. I hate to admit it but that exotic dancer was right, Quinn most definitely has a strong, confident presence about her. It's very calming to me, but it's also one of her many attractive qualities. Confidence is sexy, and, stage-fright aside, Quinn has it in spades.<p>

"Do we need to knock?" I ask to nudge her into action. She just shakes her head. "Do you have your keys?" She nods. "As much as I like the architecture of this front entrance to this splendid, grand home, I'd quite like to have a look inside." She takes a deep breath and sighs out.

"I'm just bracing myself for this evening."

"Do I need to worry about them not liking me?" This thought has only just crossed my mind. I had always assumed Quinn's parents will be as open-minded and as kind as Quinn. They did raise her after all. How could horrible people bring up such a charming person? But then my mind drifts to characters like Matilda and Harry Potter, extraordinary people who grew up like roses amongst thorns.

She turns to me with a slightly surprised expression. "Are you kidding? They're going to love you." I'm relieved. "They already like you just because I like you. I'm just bracing myself for embarrassment. I love my parents very much but they can be a bit…odd sometimes. My mother is very excited to meet you, and I want to apologise in advance for any eccentric behaviour. She means well." I smile. Eccentric I can deal with, I'm rather eccentric myself, we may get on very well. I'm getting quite excited about meeting them actually, and when I'm excited I'm impatient, I want to go in now.

"It'll be fine, I'm looking forward to it. So let's go. Come on, Quinn, open the door. Do you need me to hold the cake?" We picked one up on the way home. Quinn gave little explanation only that it was the result of a minor incident this morning and that this one wasn't for us to eat.

"No I've got it." She lets out a puff of air. "Okay here we go," she mumbles to herself as she reaches for the door handle.

I'm awestruck as we walk into the Fabray home. It's gorgeous. Everything is grand, but not in an intimidating way. The décor is warm and inviting, simple and elegant, and very tasteful. The house speaks to me of money but it doesn't shout it. I immediately love it and feel at home here. I can't wait to see the rest of it, particularly Quinn's room. I imagine it to be spacious, understated, uncluttered and tranquil. Just very Quinn.

"Mum! Dad!" Quinn shouts as we enter the grand hallway.

"Quinn, if Rachel is not with you, you can turn around and walk back out the door!" A woman's voice drifts to us from somewhere deep in the house. I assume she's teasing but there was a rather serious edge to it. I turn to Quinn for confirmation from her reaction. She just rolls her eyes. I still don't know how serious that threat was.

"Rachel is with me, Mum!" Suddenly there is a clatter followed by hurried footsteps. I can't pin-point where they will emerge until I hear an excited squeal to our left.

"Eeeeeee oh my goodness you're gorgeous!" I'm tugged straight into the arms of a beautiful older woman. I mostly just see blond hair as I'm crushed against her form. "Oh let me have a proper look at you," she pulls away enough to study me closely. I'm struck by how remarkably similar many of her features are to Quinn's, although Quinn's eyes, nose and mouth are softer, her high cheek bones and defined, elegant jaw most definitely came from this woman. "Oh look at you! You are so beautiful and petite and adorable! I knew you would be! Russell! Russell! Come and meet Rachel!" She yells behind her.

"Coming, dear." Is deep booming voice coming from elsewhere in the house.

"Oh how rude of me! I thoroughly forgot to introduce myself. I'm Judy." Judy says with a brilliant smile. I like this woman a lot.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Judy. As you've already gathered, I'm Rachel." I say brightly. If it's possible, I think Judy's smile grew even further.

"Oooh and so polite. I like you very much already Rachel." A formidable man with blond hair and light eyes enters. He has a powerful presence about him, and I'm a little intimidated until he beams at me.

"Rachel! We get to meet you at last. I'm Russell, Quinn's father obviously." His voice is booming but his tone is pleasant, I'm put at ease.

"It's nice to meet you, Russell." I extend a hand to shake.

"No need for formalities, Rachel. Can I suggest a hug instead?" I smile shyly.

"Sure." He smiles happily and pulls me into a brief, warm hug.

"Welcome to the family," He states. Quinn coughs behind me. "-home. Family home." He backtracks hurriedly. How curious.

Judy breaks the tension. "What would you like for dinner, Rachel? We have plenty of food since I went shopping today, so I can cook up just about anything."

"I'll cook tonight, Mum." Quinn interrupts. "Rachel is vegan, so I thought I would try my hand at some vegan dishes." I turn to Quinn, pleasantly surprised. I can't believe she has researched how to cook vegan dishes just for me. I don't think I could take it if Quinn gets anymore perfect. I'm still liking the idea that she's an angel; it seems highly plausible at this stage. She meets my gaze and smiles warmly at me. I'm going to melt. I can hardly get to know her parents while I'm a puddle of goo on the floor, can I? She needs to stop doing that. In fact I specifically remember telling her earlier to stop being charming. Did she listen? No. That's strike one against her being perfect.

Judy has a quizzical expression on her face. "What's a vegan?"

* * *

><p>Watching Quinn cook is my new favourite past-time. I'm meant to be chopping up a cucumber, but I'm incredibly distracted watching Quinn move about the kitchen with effortless purpose. Everything she does is precise and swift, controlled but flowing. I'm hypnotised. The sauce on the stoves splashes a little as she adds more ingredients, it's the first sign of spillage or mess since she started cooking. I practically gasp wondering what her reaction will be to the rebelling sauce. Without even a bat of an eyelid, she reaches for a cloth and continues to add the ingredients with one hand while whipping the spill with another. Only one drop remains of the rebel sauce, a rogue splash that made a blind escape from the pot only to land on Quinn's arm. <em>You poor foolish splash, there is no hope for you. But you won't be wiped by the cloth of doom, oh no. That's gone now. How will you meet your demise?<em> In a slow move, Quinn brings her arm up and wraps her lips around it and sucks the rebel sauce clean off her arm. _Oh God._

_Oh come on Rachel, you can't possibly think that's sexy. It was just spilled sauce…_

_I um…_

_You need help, Rachel. Seriously._

Quinn's eyes meet mine, and a slow knowing smirk spreads from the corners of her lips.

"How's that cucumber coming, Rach?" _Who's coming? Cucumber? What…oh the cucumber._

"Oh um…-"

"How are you girls getting on?" Judy interrupts as she waltzes in.

"Just waiting on Rachel's amazingly slow chopping skills for the salad." Quinn winks at me, I glare at her. Judy swiftly swats Quinn's arm.

"Don't tease Rachel." She scorns her daughter. I smirk. It looks like I'm going to have Judy on my side. Did I mention I like this woman?

I had no idea just how much food Quinn cooked until we sit down at the dinner table. Dish after dish of many of my favourite vegan foods are brought in and even on this large table we are struggling to fit things on in a game of Tetris. It all smells amazing but I honestly don't know how we are supposed to eat all of it between the four of us. I'm thinking Quinn may have massively overestimated how much food to make. Quinn's parents sit opposite us, they both beam at me, they do that a lot. I feel a bit like a celebrity who has been invited to dinner by her biggest fans.

"Help yourselves everyone." Quinn says brightly and suddenly her parent's eyes have shifted eagerly to the mountains of food. With eyes wide like saucers, they dish spoonful after spoonful onto their plates. I stop spooning at least a full two minutes before they do, Quinn is doing exactly the same beside me. It's like dinner at with the Klumps, except these people are in great shape. _Where does all that food go?_

"So Quinn tells us you are a talented singer." Judy starts off.

"Singing is my passion yes. I'm hoping to sing on Broadway one day." I add brightly.

"Broadway? Gosh, that's exciting. Isn't that exciting, Russell?"

"Indeed it is." Russell beams.

"Quinn, you didn't tell us she was that good." Judy frowns at her daughter.

"I believe I did, Mum. In fact my exact words were 'she's a phenomenal singer, a born star.'" Quinn gushes, I blush.

"Well we will have to come watch you perform. Is it just singing you're interested in?"

"No also acting and dance."

"Quinn, I cannot believe you. Why didn't you tell me Rachel is so talented? I swear, Rachel, sometimes getting things out of Quinn is like drawing blood from a stone." Judy informs me.

"Yeah, I know the feeling." I glance at Quinn she ducks her head and avoids eye contact with me.

"Oh, but Quinn is a wonderful young woman." I blink at Judy's abrupt change in attitude. "She may be quiet, much like her father, but she is so smart and has a kind heart, and is so beautiful. Don't you think, Rachel?" I see Quinn face-palm beside me, I have to suppress my giggle.

"Yes, all of the above and more I'd say," I'm grinning, revelling in Quinn's discomfort. So Quinn's mother is pimping her out just like my dad was me. Oh how the tables have turned. "She's got guys and girls lining up for her, in school and out."

"Really now? That's interesting." Judy's tone is quite surprised, I'm not sure why. "Of course Quinn isn't the type to take advantage of that. Once she's with someone, that's it; she will never stray."

"You sound so sure of that." I turn to Quinn. "Have you been in many relationships before m- you came to Lima?" I catch my slip before I said 'me'. I don't know how much Quinn's parents know about us and I don't want to give anything away inadvertently. Plus, I didn't want to assume we're in a relationship. It's way too complicated, but I know that I want to be.

"No, there's only you." Quinn says firmly. I guess she's not shy about her feelings in front of her parents after all. "She was referring to my character I believe." She sends an indiscernible look to her mother.

"Yes among other things. So you don't need to worry about that, dear. Quinn only has eyes for you." She affirms with a bright smile.

"So you know about me and Quinn?" I ask, gesturing to me and Quinn.

"Yes, yes we know all about it from Quinn's side, don't we Russell?" Russell grunts a confirmation around a mouthful of food.

"Sorry, I should have mentioned that." Quinn says sheepishly.

"That's okay, I'm just relieved I don't have to tip-toe around it." I reassure her.

"No, please don't, I want to hear everything." Judy is practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. "So how are you coping with resisting your sexual urges, Rachel?" I attempt to catch most of the food spraying out of my mouth with my hand, whilst Quinn seems to be struggling with food that's gone in the opposite direction. I cough a little to get the last traces out of my windpipe, but Quinn looks blue in the face. I reach out with my free hand and pound on her back as she chokes and wheezes. I can't let Quinn die in a 'death by vegetable' incident. She's meant to be in the front row of my opening night on Broadway in years to come. I'm one back slap away from attempting the Heimlich manoeuvre when she holds up her hand and takes a long, relieved inhale then exhale of air. I relax. _Thank God._

"Mum," she struggles, "you need to stop talking about that sort of thing when food is around. In fact just don't talk about it full-stop."

"I'm sorry, dears, but it's all perfectly natural. You should get used to talking about it." Now I know why Quinn was bracing herself earlier. This is beyond embarrassing.

"Not at the dinner table, _please_." Quinn begs.

"Fine, we'll talk about it later."

"No!" Quinn and Judy glare at each other.

"Judy, darling. Perhaps it's best that we let the girls discuss it when they're ready." Russell broaches gently. With a stroke to her hand Russell has Judy relax almost instantly. That's a neat trick. I wonder if something like that would work on Quinn… Maybe not on her hand though. Quinn's hair is loosely tied up, her elegant neck is exposed and looks oh so soft and inviting. I wonder… I lean an arm across the back of her chair and caress the backs of my fingers up and down the back of her neck. I see her eyes fall closed for a moment and see her shoulders relax slightly. I congratulate myself for finding a spot that instantly relaxes Quinn, until she turns to me slightly and her eyelids lift to reveal intensely dark eyes, boring into mine. _Whoops, wrong spot. That's not the effect I was going for._ I immediately retract my hand and mouth an apology to Quinn. She rips her eyes from mine and takes in some long steadying breaths as she scratches at, what I presume are, tingles on the back of her neck.

I change the subject quickly and the conversation moves on to lighter topics about why the Fabrays moved to Lima from New York, and where they worked, etc. When my dads were brought up, I was still expecting some kind of reaction from the older Fabrays, but they didn't bat an eyelid or miss a beat when they went on to ask me what they did for a living in kind. It is so refreshing to be around people that aren't surprised or offended by my having two fathers when I've grown up in a small town where they are often the topic of gossip. They're an open-minded family. Perhaps a smidgen too open sometimes, but I feel relaxed and at ease around them and allow myself to let my true personality shine through. When Judy asks about my favourite musicals, I go into full ramble mode about the epicness that is Barbra Streisand, and Judy, who is apparently familiar with Funny Girl, joins me in a rendition of Don't Rain On My Parade to the praising applause of Quinn and Russell.

I'm shocked, to say the least, when I notice at the end of dinner that every dish on the table is empty. _How are they not overweight?_

Quinn and I retire into the living room after her parents insist on clearing up. I plonk myself down on a surprising comfortable, but fashionable couch, and adjust myself then readjust then wait for Quinn to sit down so I can readjust again closer to her. But no, she does not sit directly next to me as I was expecting. She purposefully slides to the far end of the couch, practically sitting on the arm rest. If I was more insecure I would be offended…or worried that I smell bad. I sigh. I really miss cuddling with Quinn, she's soft, warm and always smells so good. I grab a pillow and hold that instead, inhaling the scent of the fabric, hoping it would smell like Quinn, but it doesn't. It just smells clean. I'm not really watching the romantic comedy that I picked out, I'm far too aware of Quinn in the corner of my eye, and too busy hating how large this couch is and glaring at the empty space between us. In my head I'm trying to count how many subtle readjustments of position it would take for me to reach Quinn without her wising up. I'm not purposefully trying to torture Quinn or myself with physical contact, I just feel like I'm suffering a different kind of torture being away from her. And so far I've surmised that it's worse. I don't know what it's like to kiss Quinn so I can't miss what I haven't experienced (though it doesn't stop me from fantasising about it), but I know what it feels like to be held by her, to feel so completely content in her arms and I miss it. God, I miss it.

"Can I get you girls anything?" Judy's voice startles me slightly, I hadn't realised until now that I had been blatantly staring at Quinn, while she determinedly stares at the screen. There's a bemused expression on Judy's face as she regards us.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Judy." I force a sweet smile. She nods.

"Quinn? Oh wait a second, you've got something on your nose." _Really?_ I hadn't noticed anything, and I have been staring at her for some time. "Here, let me get that for you." In two quick strides Judy approaches a mildly confused Quinn and swiftly plucks something, which I apparently can't see, off Quinn's nose. Quinn's reaction, to me, is oddly exaggerated. She gasps with wide eyes, clutches her nose and stares disbelievingly at her mother. You would think Judy stole the actual nose from her face. It briefly makes me wonder if Quinn was traumatized as a child by the 'got your nose' trick adults love to play on innocently naïve children.

"There that's much better." She smiles smugly while Quinn gives her a hard glare. _What just happened? Have I missed something?_ "So what are you girls watching…Ooo I love this movie and this is my favourite part. Scoot up, Rachel, I absolutely have to watch this bit." There is plenty of space between me and Quinn for Judy to sit but apparently she is intent on making me shuffle to the middle so she can sit down where I was. This must be her favourite spot or something. Quinn, who still looks shocked and a smidgen anxious, rearranges herself as well until she is practically climbing over the arm of the couch.

At this moment Russell wonders through the room.

"Oh Russell, dear, come sit and watch this. It's my favourite part. Scooch over, Rachel, scooch, scooch." She continues to nudge me over, making and overly large space for Russell on the other end of the couch, until I have nowhere left to go and I'm squashed up against Quinn's side. Russell sprawls in the large gap at the other end and Judy continues to encourage me to move further still. "Oh this is a bit snug isn't it? You'll have to sit on Quinn, Rachel, so we can all get comfy." Quinn and I exchange a look. I want to sit on her, I want to be held by her, and I know Quinn wouldn't mind it either if it wasn't for the small complication of the extreme amount of unresolved sexual tension between us. One more elbow from Judy and I'm lifting myself enough to settle on top of Quinn, who helps rearrange me to get comfortable. My legs drape across hers, I curl into her just like I wanted and rest my head against her shoulder. If we're going to be forced into physical contact then I'm sure as hell going to make the most of it.

As awkward moments are practically an inevitability when meeting a girlfriend/boyfriend's parents, it seems our next awkward moment was overdue. Had I remembered every scene in this romantic comedy I probably would have suggested another movie to avoid unnecessary tension. But as Sod's Law goes, the hot and heavy make-out scene, which goes on for a record number of minutes, completely slipped my mind. I have a hunch that Judy was perhaps lying when she said this was her favourite part, and I would even go so far as to suggest she has never actually seen this movie before, when I see her eyebrows nearly shoot off the top of her face and remain (on what must be their uncomfortable high perch) for the duration of the scene. Russell fidgets and shifts as he glances around the room trying to spot something that will occupy his attention or give him an excuse to leave. I wish him the best of luck with that endeavour, he was after all, an unwitting participant in what I figure was Judy's attempt to push Quinn and I together.

The room is filled with the sound of passionate moans, and I swear the volume didn't seem this loud before. My eyes keep drifting to the writhing bodies on screen because it's almost impossible not to look. Their bodies pressed together have me hyper aware of all the places Quinn and I are touching, and every one of the places seems to radiate heat, and considering I have most of my body flush against hers, I'm hot everywhere. I'm very aware of the firmness of Quinn's tensed body beneath mine; she hasn't even so much as twitched since the scene began. The only movement is the heavy and frequent rise and fall of her chest that has me moving with it. It's like we're moving in sync, and the thought of our chests heaving against one another's as we both draw heavy breaths has my nipples hardening against the fabric of my bra.

This is wrong. I can't get aroused when her parents are sitting inches away. It goes beyond inappropriate. But I just can't stop my mind from going there as the actors on screen act out things I've fantasised doing with Quinn. Every kiss, nip, and suck of lips and skin has me yearning for Quinn's lips on my lips, Quinn's mouth...on me. Every caress of their hands on each other has me contemplating debauching the elegant hand – which is currently casually resting on my thigh – in every possible way. She has such gorgeous fingers, so slender and fair. I want those fingers dragging slowly up my thigh, grazing teasingly over my abdomen, reaching my now painfully hard nipples and stopping to pay particular attention to them, before heading south again, over my hip, to settle firmly between my thighs. I have to stifle the moan that threatens to erupt from the back of my throat by burying my face into Quinn's shirt. My thighs clench together to try and relieve the sudden ache. There's a hitch in Quinn's breathing, but it doesn't return to normal rhythm, it freezes completely. Her body seems to tremble with tension.

Finally the scene comes to an end much to the relief of everyone sitting on the couch. At least I have to assume Quinn is relieved because she's still not breathing. No one says a word, no one has to. We all know that was an unbelievably awkward and embarrassing moment that lasted way too long. After a couple of minutes, Judy and Russell excuse themselves. But despite all the unexpected awkwardness, there is still a hint of a pleased smile tugging on Judy's lips as she leaves us in our new tangled position.

After a couple of beats I turn my head to look at Quinn. Her jaw is clenched tight and her eyes stare intensely at some obscure point on the wall ahead. I'm still concerned about her lack of breathing and I open my mouth to ask if she's okay.

"Quinn-" That's as far as I get before Quinn slides an arm under my legs and one around my back and scoops me up as she abruptly stands, only to turn and throw me unceremoniously back onto the couch. I let out a squeak at being man-handled.

"Excuse me a second, Rachel." Her tone is flat and doesn't wait for a reply before she stalks, stiffly out of the room. "MUM! I NEED THEM BACK!" I hear her muffled yell through the walls. _Need what back?_

"Oh I'm sorry, Quinnie! I seem to have misplaced them! It's easily done, you know! You'll have to make do without!" Judy's sweetly innocent voice drifts back to me as well. I also hear Quinn's response in the form of a loud frustrated groan. "Don't start groaning, Quinnie! You have a guest to entertain!" I have no idea what's going on, or what Quinn is so intent on having. Do I ask? I'm certainly curious. Quinn's not the type to get upset over a small thing.

Quinn returns stiffly to the room. "Sorry about that."

"What were you after? If you don't mind me asking."

"It doesn't matter." Her tone is dismissive. "I'm going to the kitchen. Do you want anything?"

"Some water maybe…Quinn, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just…I'm so sorry about my Mum, she has a flair for embarrassment. That was all beyond awkward."

"Hey, that's what parents do. Didn't you think I was embarrassed when my Dad started pimping me out to you?" I ask in good humour.

"Yeah, but at least he didn't physically push you on top of me." She lets out a humourless laugh and walks out the room again while shaking her head. I feel for her. I know I would be mortified if my dads did that to us. I can appreciate what Judy was trying to do but it makes me wonder. Did this mean she didn't agree with us waiting to be together? Do her parents know what she isn't telling me? My head starts spinning with questions, and I blink, surprised, when I see a glass of water moving into my field of vision.

"Thank you." I mumble absently. I take a sip. "Can I see your room?" I blurt. I'm sick of the questions, and I have the feeling that her room would hold some answers.

"Uh…yeah sure. If you want. There's nothing special about it. It's pretty plain compared to yours."

"I don't care. I just want to see it." I say quickly. Her eyebrow arches slightly before she raises her head in a single nod.

"Follow me."

Her house is huge. I should have asked for a tour when we arrived, but I'm on a mission now and I don't want distractions. We ascend the grand staircase and take a right at the top. The upper level is open and bright with large windows, and the décor matches the feel with fresh colours and tasteful complimentary art. Quinn opens an unassuming door and we step into another large softly lit room. It's spacious and modern with clean lines and dark wood accents. My eyes are immediately drawn to the large bed that spreads itself across the room with its seemingly endless white duvet. The whole room is elegant, tranquil and inviting, much like I had pictured but somehow better. It's Quinn.

My eyes start scanning the room for detail. I'm looking for any clues to her past, childhood photos (there are none), trophies, trinkets (none), the room is as hard to read as Quinn. There's a tall bookcase in a corner of the room consisting of books and DVDs, I step closer to see if I can gain any more information on her tastes, but I see no pattern as I scan the eclectic collection. Many of her books are factual rather than fictional; medical, law, social, religious, economical, psychological, geographical, historical, political…endless varied topics. They look well worn and I wonder how many of them she could quote if I asked her. I glance around at the pictures on the walls. They're all blown up beautiful photographs of different scenes from around the world that have been stretched across canvas. The photos all contain images of people of different races against backdrops of idyllic landscape. They're breathtaking and emotive, but all they tell me is that she probably likes to travel. Nothing about the room speaks to me about her having a specific interest. It's as if everything about the planet and people fascinate her, and she can't decide what to focus on. No wonder she doesn't know what career to choose.

I'm disappointed that there are no obvious clues. There aren't any jail block photos with Quinn wearing an orange jumpsuit. No fixation with slasher movies, no welcome certificates to the mafia, no CIA training graduation certificates. I don't really know what I was expecting to find, but I'm frustrated I didn't find it. I look back at the all-too-inviting bed, and give into temptation, throwing myself onto it.

_Wait, was I frustrated about something? I don't remember…God this bed is amazing._ The comfort is perfect, the softness is perfect, the smell is…_mmm Quinn. Perfect_. I immediately start digging myself deeper into the deliciously soft, white pillows and inhale deeply. I hear Quinn giggle from the doorway, and I realise I've made myself rather at home in her bed.

"Your bed is amazing." I sigh out.

"I've noticed." She sounds amused.

"I may not leave it." This is quite possible true.

"You have to eventually." I roll around to face her, and ask her one of the questions that's been bothering me.

"Why aren't there any photos of you? In the house, in your room there is none of you or your family. I was expecting to see cute 'little Quinn' photos but nothing."

"I hid them all before you came." She shrugs with a smile.

"Liar. Seriously, where are they?"

"I honestly don't know where they are now. We left our old home with very little. I don't think my parents packed them." This seems incredibly odd to me.

"I highly doubt that. Have you asked them?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well there you go. They're probably all in a box somewhere and haven't been brought out yet." I suggest brightly. Quinn's parents obviously love her dearly, I find to hard to believe they wouldn't keep memories of Quinn growing up. Quinn has a thoughtful look on her face. I think she is actually considering the possibility of a stash of photos somewhere. I wish I could see them. I bet 'little Quinn' was adorable. "What were you like as a child?" I broach now that my curiosity has been piqued.

Quinn leans against the doorframe and seems content to not move any further into the room. "Adventurous," she says after a pause. "I loved exploring things, and would often wander off then get in trouble for it later."

"I bet that always made your parents worried." I muse.

"Yeah, it did. But I always thought of myself as brave, like I could handle anything on my own."

"You're still like that." I state. She nods. "What else?"

"I loved school…as you can probably tell," she winks at me. I roll my eyes. "I wanted to know everything about everything. I would constantly badger my parents, teachers and any adults that would humour me with question after question, until they would get annoyed and try to distract me with something." I giggle, I can picture it.

"Sounds like you were a handful."

"I bet you were as well, just in different ways." I nod in agreement with that. I was loud and always had to be the centre of attention. I wonder how we would have got on if we had met as kids.

"Were you happy?"

"I was for a time." I prop myself on my elbows to look at her more fully.

"And after that time…?"

"…is a different conversation for another night."

"Does it have something to do with why we're not together yet?"

"Not directly." I sigh, frustrated.

"You're so vague."

"It's on purpose."

"I've noticed."

I swear that I can feel my eyes twinkling. This is my favourite part, the banter. It's fast and effortless and so energising. I've never known anyone who can banter with me like her. She's sharp and quick witted, and although she is vastly more intelligent than me, I feel almost on par with her in these moments. Intelligence can be sexy I've now come to realise since knowing Quinn. And bantering with Quinn is a sure fire way to get me turned on. I've been on edge since earlier so it really doesn't take much before I feel the familiar heat wash and my breathing pick up a little. Suddenly Quinn seems far too far away, it's usually better if we're toe to toe.

"You seem to like that doorway."

"It has its benefits."

"You're too far away."

"I have a nice view."

"It's better up close."

"I have no doubt."

"Won't you come join me?"

"It's better if I don't"

"Afraid of getting too comfy?"

"Something like that." Even from across the room I can see how intensely dark her eyes have become. I love and hate that look on Quinn. It makes me instantly throb with want. This is usually the part in my fantasies where Quinn saunters seductively towards me and crawls over me, intent on taking me right there and then. I've gotten so use to 'real life Quinn' pulling away at these moments that it completely takes me off guard when she draws in a deep breath through her nose, moves from her perch and takes slow sensuous steps in a wide arc around the bed, her eyes never leaving mine. I swallow thickly, my heart hammers inside my chest.

"It's getting late." I try, nervously.

"Yeah it is."

"You might have to kick me off this comfy bed."

"Why would I do that? I like seeing you on my bed." Her breathy voice has dropped two octaves. Her words and tone causes pleasant fluttering in a rather low area. She isn't even touching me and I can feel myself getting wet of that look of pure desire on her. Some vague corner of my mind registers that this doesn't sound like normal Quinn and starts sending off a little quite warning bell.

Her nostrils flare, her breaths coming visibly quicker now. In a couple of slow purposeful steps, she's above me. She looks dangerously seductive as she leans down, her hands coming to rest either side of me, a knee coming up on the bed to give her a better angle as she dips even closer into me. Her eyes dart straight to my lips. _Oh God. This is it. She's about to… We're about to… Oh fuck._

_Fuck is right._

_I'm so ready for this. I want her so badly. Uuh, God, she needs to take me right now._

_No._

_No?_

_Just no. You know why._

_I halt any further movements with a hand on her chest._

"As much as I want to do this, Quinn, and believe me, I _really_ want to...perhaps you should take a cold shower." I exert just enough pressure on her chest for her to get the point that I'm serious. Her eyes blink clear and she backs off instantly.

"I should…I should probably get you home too, huh?"

"That's not a bad idea."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N- Hello again. As always thank you for the wonderful reviews. A big thank you to executime my muse and partner in crime and mschfmngd for being a fabulously quick beta. Enjoy.

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><p><span>Chapter 8 <span>

Who Wants To Play 20 Million Questions?

**Rachel's POV**

It's Thursday night and I'm lying restless in bed. I'm particularly restless because to put it bluntly, I'm painfully aroused.

This is all entirely, completely, Quinn's fault.

As if it wasn't bad enough that I've been in a near constant state of arousal around Quinn since we met properly in the library last week, today has been particularly taxing on my overly sensitised body.

By now everyone at school knows that there is something going on between Quinn and I. Gossip spreads fast. Particularly if it concerns Quinn Fabray, one of the most sort after people in school. People notice her; actually, most purposefully look out for her. So when Quinn and I are practically inseparable between classes, it doesn't go unnoticed. Neither do the flirty looks we exchange, or our general inability to maintain the boundaries of personal space. The general response from people seems to be confusion, everyone is wondering why Quinn Fabray is with the school's resident pariah. However, in a strange turn of events, it's actually starting to improve my popularity, or at least people aren't ignoring me so much. Most are just curious on what it is about me that has captured the attention of the mysterious blonde. Others talk to me because they want to know what it's like to be with Quinn.

I'm getting cocky. Suddenly my dreams have come true, and instead of just being one of the masses fawning over Quinn from a distance, I have her to myself. It was me. I was the first one that Quinn ever showed an interest in, and I love that I can lay claim to her. So when people ask me "What's it like being with Quinn?" I often reply with a dreamy "It's hot", or occasionally "Better than you can possibly imagine", or sometimes I just wink suggestively and walk away.

I even began to pre-emptively guess that people would ask me about Quinn.

"_Excuse me-"_

"_It's amazing. I can't believe how lucky I am to have Quinn Fabray. She's perfect. I will marry her one day." I gush with a huge smile on my face._

"_Actually I was going to ask if I could borrow some paper."_

"_Oh." I blush. "Yeah, sure."_

I'm not lying. It is hot and it is better than I ever imagined. No one, other than my Dads, is so good to me and considerate. She even asked me out tomorrow night to go see a production of The Sound of Music at the theatre because she remembered me saying it was one of my all-time favourites. This is the kind of thing that makes me think Quinn is the perfect woman…but when I'm gushing about how amazing Quinn is, I tend leave out the part about it all being unbelievably sexually frustrating.

Everyone thinks I'm sleeping with Quinn and they envy me. _I_ envy me, except I envy the me that people think is worthy of being envied, I envy the rumour of me...that makes my head hurt. I'm with her, but I'm not with her in all the ways that would define me as being with her…that's not making my head any better. _Urgh! This is so frustrating! _

I like her, she likes me, so we should be together…but we're not, for no other reason than Quinn's secrecy and some warped sense of nobility. I'm almost at the point of dropping to my knees and begging her to tell me, and then begging her to relieve the constant ache between my thighs.

Today was as if I never came down from my arousal from yesterday. The predatory look in Quinn's eyes from last night was a near permanent expression all day. It somehow made everything heightened; every glance in my direction, every fleeting touch, every breathy word seemed to spread more moisture between my thighs. In return I couldn't tear my eyes away from Quinn, every movement seemed more sensual; the way she would drink a bottle of water, pressing her lips to the opening, tilting her head up exposing that delicate kissable neck as she swallowed. The way she peeled off her cardigan when she got too hot, exposing inch after inch of gloriously soft, pale skin that I wanted to explore with my fingers, lips and tongue. The way she would lick her soft, perfect lips as she eyed me made me think of that mouth doing delicious, filthy, sensual, sinful, un-godly things to my body. I would be squirming in her presence trying to quell the throbbing of my core as my thoughts spiralled down to the most sordid images I had no idea I could conjure. And it was like she knew, as if she could read the thoughts behind my eyes because her piercing gaze would get impossibly darker, her jaw would lock, her hands would reach out to grip on any stable object within reach as if she was holding herself back from doing all the things that my mind was begging her for. Every look from her, every charged moment between us was pushing me closer to something I couldn't quite achieve. But if anyone was capable of causing me to spontaneously orgasm without touching me, it would be Quinn. She doesn't even have to try and I'm already trembling with need.

More than once today I very seriously contemplated escaping to a bathroom to relieve the tortuous ache with a quick, hot release by my own hand. It would not be the first time I had brought myself to orgasm while thinking of Quinn doing it for me. Ever since Quinn came to this school she had always been my go-to lead star in my fantasies. Now I was closer than ever to those fantasies becoming a reality and my mind has been running rampant with scenarios that I hope to soon be living out for real very soon.

Images of Quinn and I ravenously fucking in every position imaginable suddenly flash across my eyes, and I squirm as my core painfully throbs with need. I can't wait any longer.

Without preamble I shove my hand under my sleep shorts and plunge two fingers into my soaking heat. "Mmm, oh God." No foreplay required, the whole day has been God damn torturous foreplay. I need my release and I need it now. My fingers fall quickly into all too familiar movements. I thrust hard and fast just like I need Quinn to do to me right now. "Oh fuck, Quinn. Uuh, mmm…God." She's got me pinned against a wall; her fingers bypassed my panties and are stroking me at a punishing pace. I tug her mouth to mine and kiss her desperately, needy, hungrily. She tastes so good, her mouth is like heaven. I can't get enough of her lips, and I press her impossibly closer and alternate taking each lip between my own. She swipes at my bottom lip with her tongue, demanding entry, I grant it willingly and I moan out at the first touch of her tongues. Suddenly her fingers are gone from my heat and I whimper before she plunges back in with three. "Fuck! Quinn!" I cling to her as my knees give way under the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through me. Her fingers are hitting that one wonderful, glorious spot with each thrust. I'm approaching something amazing much faster than before. I'm dizzy with pleasure, panting into Quinn's mouth as she fucks me hard. "Oh God! Quinn- uh – I'm so, I'm so close. Oh fuck!" She pulls her head back just enough to look me in the eyes, her eyes are clear and study me predatorily, I almost come from the look alone, she presses her thumb to my clit and I'm undone. My hips buck wildly into her hand and I scream out her name as I come. My body shakes uncontrollably as wave after wave of rippling pleasure washes over me. "Mmmmmm," I sigh out contented as my body is still lost in pleasure.

I open my eyes to find myself alone in my room, my sleep shorts ruined. "Fuck." I breathe out and close my eyes again. It's almost embarrassing how quickly I came, but I was already so close to the edge. It was like a release after a week's worth of foreplay, it was never going to take much. Even now that the burning need has been sated, I'm still left feeling incredibly aroused. I could probably go for rounds two and three with my own hands as I picture Quinn making love to me sensually, but I want the real thing so much more. I very seriously contemplate calling her and begging her to come over and do just that. Could she hold out if I told her I just screamed her name while I came, that I'm still aching for her touch, and that I need her naked body pressed against mine? Or would she be climbing through my window within minutes? I'm almost positive with the way she's been looking at me today that it wouldn't take more than a few breathy words to get her to snap. Which is why I chuck the phone (that had somehow made its way into my hands) away from me and climb out of bed. I can't go back to sleep like this, I can't call her, and I refuse to take a cold shower. So I change into my work-out clothes and sneak out of the house to go running, in the hope of exhausting myself enough to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Quinn's POV<strong>

"Tough day at school, Quinnie?" My mother's mockingly cheery voice reaches me as I walk in the living room practically trembling with tension.

"Don't start, Mum. This is all your fault." I growl, feeling beyond frustrated with my mother's antics. I throw myself face first onto the couch.

"No, sweetie. This is your fault. I just don't understand why you're doing this to yourself and Rachel. It's obvious that she likes you, Quinn."

I turn my head to the side so my mother doesn't just hear me mumbling into the cushion. "I know she likes me now. I'm worried about her not liking me when she finds out the truth."

"You're being ridiculous, Quinnie. She's not going anywhere."

"Yeah? How do you know?" I hiss. My temper is on a short lease that's about to snap. I'm wound so tight from keeping myself in check all day that the last thing I need is a lecture from my mother who is the cause of my increased frustrations. She should really tread carefully. My mother sighs and pushes my legs to the side so she can sit down on the couch with me.

"You're right I don't know for sure, but I see the way she looks at you, Quinn, she adores you. You need to have a little faith in her."

"I need…I need more time." I sigh out weakly. I feel my mother's posture stiffen on the couch beside me.

"How much more time do you need exactly? What are you waiting for? For her to say, 'by the way if you happen to be an alien, I still want to be with you'?" Her voice rises in exasperation.

"Well that would be nice." I huff out a humourless laugh.

"You're delusional, Quinn!" She snaps. My temper's gone. I angrily whip round to face her.

"I'm shit scared of losing her, Mum! You have no idea what it's like to worry about your mate not accepting you for who you are, no Caelen does. So don't judge me. Don't you dare judge me!" I get off the couch and make to leave before I stop again. "I want my nose plugs back." I demand in a flat tone. She huffs and reaches into her pocket before shoving a familiar feeling item into my hand. I proceed to storm upstairs.

I pace my room feeling so utterly frustrated about everything. The angrier I get the more I crave Rachel. The more I need to hold her in my arms, the more I need her comforting presence, the more I need to make her mine so I can properly relax with her. I glance down at the phone that has suddenly appeared in my hand. I could call her. _No I shouldn't. _I should not under any circumstances be tempted to go to her, not in the state I'm in. I would have her pinned on her bed in an instant.

I throw my phone onto the bed and start pacing again. I sit, my leg jiggles, I stand, and I'm pacing again. _I'm fine, I'm totally okay. I can handle this. I'm not going to go to Rachel. I'm going to stay right here. _I sit. _See, I'm fine. I can sit still if I want._

_Your leg's still jiggling._

_It's a twitch._

_It's pent-up sexual tension._

_It's under control._

_Maybe you should stop thinking about Rachel._

_I'm trying._

_You're hopeless._

_I need to get out of here._

The moment it gets dark I don my suit and I'm gone. I'm running from the pain of my past, I'm running from my own cowardliness, I'm running off my fears, I'm running off my sexual frustrations. My feet pound out my tension into the ground stride after stride until it's just me and the rhythmic movement of my body, and the slow burn of my tiring muscles. I run full pelt as far as I can, I'm out of Lima…past Findlay…I keep going until a large body of water stops me - Lake Erie. It's a hundred miles gone in a matter of minutes. I'm out of breath as I gaze across the dark body of water that stretches for miles. My legs ache in an amazingly satisfying way. I can't remember the last time I felt like my body had had a proper work out, it feels incredible. I suck in lung-fills of fresh air as my body gradually slows and calms.

It's beautiful and tranquil here. The stars shine down on the water, giving it a beautiful ghostly glow. I take off my mask and sit at the water's edge listening to the gentle waves lapping, and clear my mind of everything. I meditate. It's a common Caelen practise and I should do this more often. I need to clear my mind. No Caelum war, no deaths, no pain, no mating bonds, it's just me and the sound of the waves. A gentle breeze washes over me; I inhale the fresh air, and let my body relax. All the tension seems to drain away with a retreating wave.

I don't know how long I sit there as the stars track across the sky, but it's long enough for me to feel totally at peace. I gaze out at the body of water that seems to beckon me. I know what I want to do. I press the switch on the collar of my suit and I feel the familiar humming of life. I stand looking determinedly out across the water. _Time to fly._

I take a run up. A few sprinting strides and dive into the air. I close my eyes waiting for the inevitable splash, but it doesn't come. I open my eyes and see water rushing a couple of feet beneath me at tremendous speed. "Holy shit!" I easily bank and turn and sway as I fly over the rippling blanket below me. I've never felt more in tune with this suit. Every movement feels effortless.

I bank sharply up soaring straight into the night's sky. My vision fixed on the stars above me as I rocket up and up. The air rushes past me, whooshing past my ears, making my eyes water. I've never felt so alive, so free. My smile threatens to burst my face. My excitement can no longer be contained.

"Whaoooooohooo!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I reach new dizzying heights.

I'm a child dreaming of touching the stars, and I'm right there.

I slow my ascent before the air gets too thin, and hover on my back, clasping my arms behind my head as my eyes scan the twinkling lights above me. My world is out there somewhere, but I think I have a pretty good one right here. I certainly don't mind staying. I look back down at the glowing towns and cities, buzzing with life and activity. Somewhere down there is my mate, better yet, the woman I love. No, this world definitely isn't so bad. I smile.

I dive back towards the earth. I'm picking up speed. Faster and faster. I see the large black body of Lake Erie spreading wider and wider across my field of view. I decide to play chicken with myself.

_Pull up._

_No._

_Pull up now!_

_No!_

_Pull up or you'll die!_

_Okay._

At the very last second I change direction, causing waves to splash out in a rippling circle from the air pressure. I skim close to the water, close enough for me to dip and trail my hand through the cold wetness. I laugh, feeling preposterously giddy.

I fly most of the way home, making the most of the suit. I stop at the outskirts of the Lima and switch it off, and take to my usual methods of travel. I'm passing through one of the local parks and I spot a small, feminine figure jogging round a small lake. It's late, very late, and I wonder why a young woman would be so blasé about the very real danger of running alone at night in a secluded area. I realise that is kind of what I'm doing, but I know that I'm more than capable of handling anything that could come my way. That's what I do.

I jump from branch to branch to get closer and keep an eye on her. I even contemplate giving her a word of warning.

…_Wait a second…_

_Rachel! What the hell are you doing out here? _

I don't know whether to consider myself lucky that I manage to find Rachel in these dangerous situations, or unlucky because she manages to get herself into these situations in the first place. I send a quick thank you to whatever deity is out there that Rachel is in no immediate danger and jump down to reprimand her for scaring the living crap out of me.

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel POV<strong>

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" I scream. It's one of those natural body responses to suddenly being scared shitless. Evolutionary speaking, it's a wonderful ability women (and some men) possess in order to alert others of being in danger, and also to hopefully surprise the attacker. The other night this particular reflex failed me, but tonight my extensive vocal range and lung capacity exceptionally enhance this defence mechanism to the point of hurting my own ears. But I don't care about that because for the second (or is it third?) time this week something has jumped in front of me in the dark.

This time I don't hesitate as I skid to a stop, my hand reaching to the ground to steady me, I scramble back to my feet and bolt in the opposite direction. My heart is hammering in my chest, the adrenaline coursing through my system giving a boost to my already tired muscles as I sprint as fast as I can towards any kind of safety.

My head whips round to check to see if I'm being pursued and I see no sign of the figure. I don't know whether to be relieved or worried that I can't see it. My head whips to the front again in time to see the figure in front of me before I crash into it and we both go tumbling to the ground. I hear a surprisingly feminine "Omph!" before my self-defence classes kick in and I role on top of my attacker and pin them down. It's shockingly easy to get the upper hand and I then look down at my attacker to find out why they're not putting up any resistance.

"YOU!" I shout, staring at the familiar mask of the vigilante. "You scared the SHIT out of me!" I'm relieved, but exasperated. My heart is still thudding hard in my chest and my breathing is ragged. "Were you trying to give me a heart attack?"

I get a rather sheepish head shake from the vigilante.

"Are you sorry?"

She nods emphatically.

"Good. You should feel bad. You shouldn't just jump out of the dark like that. I should get you a bell or something if you're going to refuse to use your voice to alert people of your presence like normal people." Her body shakes under me in almost silent laughter. The movement brings my attention to our rather compromising position in a sudden wave of pleasure that rips a small whimper from my throat as her convulsing torso connects with my still overly sensitised core. _Damn Quinn for making me so aroused. _

The vigilante's laughter ceases abruptly and I swear her eyes are boring into mine from behind that mask. I blush profusely and I'm about to get up before I'm hurled onto my back on the soft grass. Instead of straddling the vigilante, she's now pressed firmly between my thighs from above me. I can't stop the moan that escapes without my permission. _I can't believe I'm reduced to this horny mess that gets pleasure wherever I can find it._ I'm humiliated. I just want the ground to open beneath me and swallow me whole. I'm glad I can't see the expression under the mask because I'm sure it's a look of disgust. But she doesn't move, doesn't untangle herself from me to get away. She stays firmly pressed against me while looking at me intently. I get déjà vu as my mind flips to Quinn, I'm not sure if it's the familiarity of the position or familiarity of the intensity of the moment that has my heart pounding in my chest again but-

"Hey, you! Get off of her right now!" The deep voice of a man startles us both. Our heads whip round to see a middle aged man in slippers, jeans and a bathrobe pointing a shotgun at us, or more specifically, the vigilante. "I said get off of her!", he yells angrily.

Slowly, very slowly, she gets to her feet her, hands in the air. The man follows her moves with the barrel of the gun. He looks scared and a little twitchy, his finger hovering dangerously closer to the trigger. I have to intervene.

"No! Wait, please! Don't hurt her!" I get to my feet and put myself between her and him.

"Get out of the way, kid. I don't want you to get hurt." He says firmly not moving his eyes from the woman behind me.

"She didn't do anything wrong! Please put the gun down."

"I heard you scream. I come running from my house and see this thing pinning you to the ground. Something looks pretty fucking wrong to me. You, get on your knees!" He yells at the vigilante. I feel her hand on me as she gently pushes me to the side as she gets down to her knees. "Keep your hands off her! I'm warning you."

"I screamed because I was startled. She wasn't hurting me, I swear. She saved my life the other day. She wouldn't hurt me.", I say in the most level tone I can manage.

"That may be the case, but this thing has been on the news. And I bet the police would like to have a word with it when they get here. So stand aside, miss."

For a mere moment, he takes his eyes off her and pins them on me. This is apparently all she needed. In a blur of movement the gun is no longer in his hands, and she is dismantling it, chucking the shotgun shells in the lake before handing the gun back to him with a pat on the shoulder. The man just has a stunned expression on his face.

"See, she doesn't mean any harm. Thank you for coming to save me, by the way. That was very brave of you." I say with a smile as I hold my hand out to her and we take off running just as sirens can be heard.

I try to ignore the tingles in my hand as I hold her thinly gloved one. I have no idea what to make of that yet so I keep running. Once we reached some cover, she scoops me up and we're racing in the direction of my house at impossible speed. Jumping through my bedroom she deposits me rather unceremoniously on my feet. She looks suddenly very tense. She points to me, then out the window, then taps her wrist, and then firmly shakes her head. I take that to mean 'You. Out there. This time. No.'

"I couldn't sleep", is my lame excuse. She throws her arms up in frustration. She gestures angrily back out the window then slices her hand through the air as she shakes her head again. I take that as 'Out there. NO.'. It's like talking to a mute Tarzan.

"Well, I was fine until you showed up." I huff with my hands on my hips not appreciating being treated like a child. She drops her head and shakes it before she turns to leave.

"Wait! I have so many questions. Are you really an alien or are there some…medications you're supposed to be taking?" She shakes her head again and continues to climb out the window.

"No, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It was rude. Can you tell me if there is some way to contact you?"

Head shake.

"But how can I see you again?" She hops on to a branch of the tree outside my window and ignores my question. I have to think fast. "If you don't meet me again tomorrow night, I'll spend all night wandering the streets of Lima alone looking for you. Who knows what could happen to me."

She pauses. _That got her attention._ She turns back.

"My parents are away tomorrow night, so meet me back here when it gets dark." She stares at me a long while before bounding onto next door's rooftop and disappearing into the darkness.

_Was that a yes or a no?_

* * *

><p><strong>Quinn's POV<strong>

It's been about a two minutes into our drive to school and Rachel has been unusually quiet. She's not even singing along to the radio, I miss that.

"So how was your night, Rach?" I'm waiting for her to inevitably start gushing about how she saw the vigilante again.

She shrugs. "It was okay. How about you?" _Okay? Just okay? Um where's the detail, Rach? _

"Err…it was fine. So you didn't do anything last night?" I probe.

"I did my homework, watched movies, and went to bed. Not much to report." _Why is she lying? I was her stake-out buddy and everything; I thought she would be sharing this stuff with me. _I try a different tactic.

"Right. So are we still on for tonight?"

"Tonight?" she asks absently. _So she did forget. _Ithought it was odd she asked to meet the vigilante the same night we're supposed to be going out on what I thought would be our first date. I know we're not together properly, but I didn't see the harm in showing her what it could be like once we are together. I was going to go all out for this, dinner, theatre, then maybe a leisurely stroll as we just bask in each other's company afterwards. _Was I the only one who was excited for this? _

"Yeah 'The Sound of Music', remember? I was thinking we could get some dinner beforehand at this great vegan restaurant on the way." The look of shock realisation and utter remorse on her face didn't do anything to make me feel better about it. The big question now is what is she going to do?

Her hands fly up to her face as she turns in her seat to face me. "Quinn! Oh my God, I'm so sorry. It completely slipped my mind." I swallow the little bit of hurt I feel. "Oh my God! OH MY GOD!"

"Relax, it's okay. I mean we're still good to go, right?" The well of hope inside me is bigger than she imagines. She has a choice. Go with me tonight and blow off the vigilante, or blow me off in the hope of meeting the vigilante again. Behind my eyes I'm begging her to choose me.

"I…um…I…" I can see her mind racing, she's weighing up the decision right now running the pros and cons. "Quinn I…" suddenly a look of resolution settles on her face (decision made), along with a look of guilt…directed at me. My heart plummets, I already know the answer, and it isn't me. "Quinn, I'm so sorry…I don't think I can tonight…maybe-"

"Forget about it, Rachel. It's fine." _It's not fine. Not even close to fine. _My mouth tastes bitter.

"I really wanted to-"

"I said it's fine." I snap silencing Rachel. She flinches. I didn't mean to snap at her, but I'm too hurt right now to take it back.

The rest of the drive to school is silent. I see Rachel keep glancing at me from the corner of my eye as if she's about to say something but never does.

The day is a bit of a blur for me. I still meet Rachel at all our usual times, but I'm lacking my usual cheer. She tries hard to make me smile, and I make weak attempts to appease her a little. Not only am I hurt that she chose the vigilante over me, but I'm also kicking myself because it's my fault anyway. Firstly for not having the guts to tell her about me in the first place, secondly for not thinking about the repercussions of letting her see me as the vigilante again, and thirdly for letting the primal part of me get the best of me last night when I smelt her arousal. I shouldn't have acted like that. That was a mistake. I made things worse.

I have never felt so jealous of myself than I do right now. I can't stop my mind from wondering, why was she aroused with the vigilante in the first place? I knew it was her but she didn't know it was me. What does this mean? Is it something to do with the bond? And if not, does this mean she could easily be with someone else? _Of course she could. She's human; humans can have relationships with multiple partners before settling down._

_But I want her to settle down with me. What if she thinks she's too young to settle? What if she wants to explore her options? Can I cope with that?_

_You're getting ahead of yourself. She blew off one date, we can have another one. Plus, she didn't blow you off for someone else; she blew you off for you._

_This is so messed up._

_Tell me about it._

_If I don't show up as the vigilante tonight, will she let it go and come back to me?_

_Maybe. But what about her threat to go wandering the streets?_

_I'll keep an eye on her just in case, but I won't show myself._

_This is needlessly complicated. You should just tell her everything. _

_I'm not ready. I'm not…strong enough to deal with the rejection._

_If you wait too long, rejection is more likely._

_I know…just I know, okay. Just leave it for now, please?_

_Fine._

_Thank you._

* * *

><p>The drive back to her house at the end of the day is quiet again. Ms Sylvester's taunts are still ringing in my ears. They got to me today instead of rolling off like usual. <em>"You're a pathetic waste of space, Fabray." "I know why you won't join my squad, it's because you're a coward. You hear me, Fabray? You're a coward!" "Why would anyone want you, anyway?"<em>

Rachel hasn't even told me about her new Glee assignment. Things are awkward, and it's my fault. I pull into her driveway and turn the engine off. I want to say something but I don't know what. The silence drags for a couple of beats. Rachel takes a long breath, turns to me and opens her mouth, "…" and closes it again. She sighs. "Thank you for the lift, Quinn."

"Always", I say sincerely. She gets out of the car and heads towards her front door. Her shoulders are slumped, and she carries none of her usual Rachel-Berry-future-Broadway-star air.

_Don't leave it like this, Quinn._

I'm out of the car in a flash.

"Rachel!" She turns back to me, her eyes a little hopeful. I close the distance between us and pull her into a tight embrace. She immediately squeezes me back just as tight and buries her face into the crook of my neck. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sorry for being in such a foul mood today. I'm sorry for overreacting like that." I'm very confused when I feel Rachel laughing against me.

"Why are you apologising? That's supposed to be me, you numpty." She says pulling away enough to look at me. "I'm the one who forgot about our date – it was a date wasn't it?" I nod. "Right I'm the one who forgot and made other plans that I can't really back out of, and you're apologising for being hurt?" she says disbelievingly. "You're unbelievable, Quinn." She smiles up at me adoringly. "You have no idea how much I regret not having our date tonight, and not just because I'm missing The Sound of Music revival. I really want to be with you, Quinn. And considering how charming you are day to day, I can only imagine what you would be like on an actual date. You might have to carry me home because I'll probably be jelly from swooning too much." I smirk.

"So what's stopping you from a night of swooning?"

"If I told you, you would probably try to talk me out of it." _This is true._

"Is it dangerous?" I ask only because this is what I would ask if I didn't know exactly what she was trying to do tonight.

"I don't think so." Her tone is sure.

"So if I would try and stop you, why are you doing it?"

"Curiosity. You know what I'm like when I'm curious." Her smile is playful. _Curiosity? Curious to see what it's like with someone else? _My insecurities are obviously playing up.

"Is it um…is it someone else?"

"Not in the romantic sense, no. Trust me. No one could hold a candle to you. You are the only one I want. You know that right?" No one could hold a candle to me except maybe myself. Am I still worried? Yes.

"I guess I do now."

"Good. So, um…tonight were you planning on telling me something?" I wasn't but for some reason I feel the need to torment her a little bit with the possibility.

"Maybe", I say mysteriously. "Thinking about changing your mind? You still can." _Oh that is low, Fabray. That is a dirty trick and you should be ashamed. I'm ashamed to be associated with you._

_Well tough, you have no choice. Besides, if she does change her mind maybe I will tell her._

…_Okay, run with it. Go on. Milk it for all it's worth. _

I bring my hand up and brush some strands of hair out of her face, taking my time to run my hand through that gorgeously soft silky hair, before resting my hand on the nape of her neck and lightly caress the back of her neck with my fingers. I feel her shiver pleasantly. She closes her eyes for a moment.

"Mmm, I'm definitely considering it."

I drop my voice lower, accentuating the breathy quality. "Well consider fine dining, candle light, good company, engaging conversation," I drawl out slowly as I bring my forehead to rest against hers gently, "then an invigorating show of one of the greatest musicals of all time. Where I get the chance to sit back and watch your eyes light up in excitement, watch you mouth along to all the songs, see every emotion mirrored in your own expression…at least that's what I'm looking forward to. Then afterwards maybe an evening stroll under starlight where things are comfortable and…open between us. And if you're comfortable with what you hear, then maybe…"

"Maybe…?"

"A kiss."

"A kiss?"

"It is our first date. I think a kiss would be appropriate. One of those earth-shattering, knee-weakening, mind-blowing kisses."

"Just the one?"

"We can play it by ear."

"How about a preview?"

"A preview?"

"Yeah you know, a short preliminary showing to give me an idea of what the main event will be like. Something to keep me interested, keep me hanging in anticipation."

"Are you saying you're not interested and anticipating it now?"

"Oh I definitely am. That's why I want a little taster."

"Isn't that teasing?"

"The best kind of teasing."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Okay then." Her breath catches in anticipation. I see her eyes dart straight to my lips, she wets hers. I draw the moment out as I try to give myself some mental preparation.

_Careful, Quinn. You can very easily lose control here._

_I know._

_You have to be brief._

_I know._

_Don't let her take control._

_I won't._

_It's going to be good but you must resist. Like one lick of an ice-cream. Savour it but don't go in for more._

_I won't._

_Short and sweet. You can do this, Quinn._

_I can do this._

It's like a coach giving a pep talk to a boxer before the next round. I feel like I should be limbering up, doing some stretches, practising my footwork making sure my movements will be swift, but it might ruin the mood if I start jigging on the spot and using her as a support for some hamstring stretches. Instead I go for the bobsleigh driver approach and picture the movements in my mind. Go in slow, pull back quick. Go in 90%, wait for her 10%, kiss, then pull back. Emphasis on the pull back.

_You can do this._

_I can do this._

_Don't you dare roll your shoulders, that's not sexy._

_I wasn't going to._

_Yes you were._

_Well I won't now._

_Good._

_So…_

_So…_

…

_Well…Kiss her!_

_Right!_

I catch her eyes and hold them as I lean into her. My eyes fall to her lips as the distance closes. I try not to dwell on how amazing her lips will feel against mine because it will only make this harder for me. I bring my lean to a stop a mere two inches from her lips. The tiniest of smirks tug at both our lips for a moment before we forget entirely what was amusing. The air between us crackles familiarly. I think I feel her trembling in my arms. This moment should be bigger. I know it. This is about to be our first kiss and yet I'm going to restrain myself in the moment? This feels wrong. I want to kiss her and be able to let go, get lost in the feel of her lips, get lost in her. I want to feel completely wrecked by her. I know the moment her lips touch mine she will destroy me, and I want to let her. But this isn't the right moment for that. Besides this kiss is out of manipulation because I want her to change her mind and pick me, that's not right.

So as she moves in 5% of her 10%, I veer off to the side and place a lingering kiss on her cheek instead. As I pull back, I catch her eyes. I see confusion flash first, then chagrin, then vexation, then complete and utter exasperation.

"What the hell was that?"

"A short teaser."

"I asked for a preview. That was like a poster on a bus that was travelling too fast to see it properly."

"Well I didn't want to ruin our first kiss with spoilers." Her face contorts in frustration and she hits my shoulder with some force.

"Urgh! Quinn, you are impossible. I hate you so much right now."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do!"

"You may want to, but you don't. So our date tonight?"

"Not happening. And not just because I'm mad at you right now, but because I honestly need to do this other thing tonight." Okay maybe I deserve that, but it doesn't stop the hurt feeling from surfacing again.

"Were you actually considering coming on the date tonight?"

"You were definitely tempting me. But we can do it another night right? I can't do this other thing another night. I may never get a second chance at this." Her eyes plead with me for understanding. The primal side of me wants to tie her up so she can only ever be mine, but the rational, logical, mature and loving side of me knows that I have to let this slide. Rachel is on a mission and she won't be happy with the 'what ifs' if she comes with me tonight instead of waiting for the vigilante. I sigh out in resignation.

"Yeah, another night then." I put on my best smile. She eyes me sceptically.

"Are you really okay with that?"

"I'm as okay as I can be I suppose. Am I disappointed? Of course, but I understand to some extent that this is important to you and I don't want to take you away from that." This is all true and it is reflected in the tone of my voice. Rachel's eyes scan my face, drinking in the sincerity written on it. Then she pulls me tight into her arms.

"Thank you, Quinn." She whispers. "You are incredible, you know that? You're a bigger person than me. If I had asked you out and organised the date, I would be dragging you on it by force by now." I chuckle.

"Well to be honest, I did contemplate it." I smile, it's genuine this time. "And I think I better go before I contemplate it again." I think I'm only half joking. I untangle myself from her warm embrace. "Call me if you need anything, Rach. I'll always be there for you." Her face lights up.

"I will."

"See you later."

"Bye, Quinn."

* * *

><p>It's dark before I want it to be. I think this is the only time I've cursed the darkness for coming early. I'm already in my suit. I'm going to Rachel's but I'm fighting an internal moral battle. The selfish and jealous side of me wants to make sure the Rachel doesn't fall for the vigilante so it doesn't want me to show myself. But the part of me that loves Rachel and wants to make her happy, wants to satisfy her curiosity. Before these two sides can finish arguing over the right thing to do, it's dark and I have to leave.<p>

I slink through the darkness, moving as the wind gusts through the trees helping to conceal me. I see Rachel's bedroom light on as I approach the house. It beckons me into the warm interior, into the place I feel most at home because everything is Rachel's and it surrounds me like a comforting blanket. My eyes are drawn to Rachel's silhouette as she moves past the window. Her shadow is perfection of the feminine form, soft curves and dips so natural, so ethereal. I daydream of exploring every inch of those soft, gentle curves with my hands. My memory flashes to the morning I woke up with her in my arms, those beautiful curves pressed against my body, the silky smoothness of her skin under my fingertips, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest and being so utterly content like I had never experienced in my life. I wish that moment could have lasted forever; I miss it desperately. If I ever have that chance again, I'll cherish it, bask in it, dwell in it, soak up everything that moment can give me and hold it tight. That to me is happiness, it's bliss, and the only thing in the universe I would ever ask for if I only had one wish.

I nestle myself into my tree. It's my tree now I'm so familiar with it. I hide myself amongst the branches and the darkness, and settle myself in to watch over Rachel before I make up my mind. As the minutes tick by and the night settles in, the activity in her room slows. Her window is open in invitation; she had been occasionally glancing out of it in expectation as she busied herself in the room. Doing what? I don't know. The hopeful glances became more frequent until she turned off her bedroom light so that she could sit by the window and look into the darkness properly. She was waiting now. The only thing she was doing was sitting and waiting. The moonlight lit up her face in a ghostly pale glow, and her expressions seemed enhanced by the low light. She looked a mixture between excited, hopeful, determined, and as the minutes maybe an hour ticked by she still looked hopeful but less expectant, saddened, and increasingly disheartened. I hated seeing her like that. Part of me screamed at me to go to her, to comfort her and give her what she wanted, anything to take those emotions away, but I sat refusing to move. The jealousy over the joy the vigilante could bring to her now kept me firmly planted.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. As I sat, moulded to the branches and trunk of the tree, I was pressed firmly against the rough, broken bark. The insects residing in and on the tree began to see me as an addition to the tree itself, and used me as their own personal climbing frame. I felt reasonably well covered by my suit and at least thought that they couldn't penetrate inside. We had bugs and creepy crawlies on Caelen too, obviously, and I was quite used to being in environments where they resided. In covert operations I would often have to sit completely still in the most dark, damp and insect-infested environments to complete my missions. I became quite accustomed to the bugs on Caelen and knew they wouldn't bother me if I didn't bother them. However, there is one particular creature on Earth that does not resemble any of the creatures on Caelen. Its movements are unique and make it stand out against others. Whether slow or quick, this creature fills me with irrational fear. It is quite possibly the most unfriendly looking of all creepy crawlies and it never fails to fill me with unease.

The spider. It's evolutionary perfect. Its form and function hasn't changed for over 200 million years, and it hasn't needed to. They are one of the oldest and well adapted species on the planet and they know it. It's in their slow, superior walk as each of its legs rises and falls with perfect execution of precision. Its ability to intimidate many humans and even an alien with super abilities is uncanny. So when I feel the familiar slow creep of pointed legs over my shoulder, I freeze. I stop breathing as absolute dread seeps deep into me. An almost silent squeak of fear escapes me as my peripheral vision picks up dark spindly legs as long as my fingers, feeling their way over my shoulder heading down to my chest. I do everything I can to suppress my scream as a proportionally sized body follows the legs hovering a mere centimetre above my suit. When it pauses above my breast and changes direction head for my neck, I can't take it anymore. With a slow, smooth movement, I line my hand up to where it currently resides and tilt my head up to give me room. In one quick swipe and reflexive jump, I propel the spider off me into the darkness below. My additional residual twitchiness has me swatting frantically at the rest of my body, swiping at all the other insects. I'm on my feet desperately trying to rid myself of any unwanted stowaways. I'm balancing on one leg as I spot another smaller arachnid clinging to my waist. This time my wild swing at it throws off my balance and I fall from the branch, catching myself at the last second on another lower down, but it's too late. I've been spotted.

"You came!" Rachel yells excitedly. I look up at her surprised and happy expression from my dangling position on the branch. _Shit! _

I haul myself swiftly onto my feet on the branch I'm hanging from. I consider making a run for it.

"Please come in. I'm so glad you're here." She looks so genuinely happy I can't deny her. I curse my stupidity and I curse spiders as I hop into her bedroom. I bring myself to full height once I'm inside, bracing myself for whatever comes next. She doesn't make a move to turn on the light and just stares at me in the moonlight. Her eyes trace my mask and my form unabashedly. She looks awestruck.

"Wow," she breathes out. "The, um, the moonlight suits you." She says bashfully. "Well, I mean the suit. Well, you and the suit. You look…impressive." I can't help but draw my shoulders a little straighter at the compliment. My ego seems to like being stroked. She looks a little flustered, and runs a hand through her hair nervously. She looks unbelievably cute right now. "I-I wrote down some questions I wanted to ask you, if that's okay. I promise I won't tell another soul about it, it's just to satisfy my own curiosity." _Not another soul? What about me…Quinn? _She waits for a moment, but I don't make any sign of answering so she takes that as consent.

Without taking her eyes off me she backs towards her desk and picks up a bedazzled folder and returns to the dim light of the window to read.

She clears her throat. "Question one: Do you come in peace?" The fact that she is completely serious right now makes me chuckle as quietly as I can manage. She raises an eyebrow at me. I just nod in response, highly amused by the whole thing. She makes a little check on a page that I assume is some kind of technical flow chart. "Question two: Are you here to study humans?" I shake my head. She makes another check, and makes no sign of reacting positively or negatively to my answers. If she asks me if I was here 'to seek out new life and new civilisations, and boldly go where no one has gone before' I might wet myself in hysterics. She doesn't, but I kind of wish she had now. "Question three: Are you on Earth by choice?" That's a bright question. I've got to give her credit for that. I shake my head because it is the blunt truth.

"Question four: Did you crash land on Earth?" I shake my head. The only reaction I get is a slight twitch of her eyebrow. I don't think she was expecting that. "Question five: Were you sent here?" That's a bit tougher to answer. I raise my hand and shake it slightly in a sign of _"sort of…ish". _"I'm afraid I need a yes or no answer." She says flatly. Trust Rachel to be strict on rules when talking to an alien. I'm starting to feel like I'm in some kind of quiz show. What happens when we get to the end of the flow chart? Do I get a prize? Does it depend on how I answer as to what kind of prize I get? Maybe she has it narrowed down into types of alien categories at the end. If she deems me to be like E.T. maybe I get a good prize, or if she types me as Predator maybe I don't get anything. I'm feeling the pressure now.

I just shake my head in answer, thinking that she's probably asking if I was ordered here. She makes a check and follows another limb of her flow chart.

"Question six," she really doesn't need to number the questions. "Are you hiding here?" Another difficult question. We're not technically hiding because nothing is chasing us but we are hiding the fact that we are aliens on this planet. I cock my head to the side, and hesitantly shake my head. She looks at me surprised and a little flustered. "I-I don't have another question following that, I assumed it would be a yes. I don't know what other options there are. I…oh no, I'm completely unprepared for this." She frantically starts flicking through her folder at what looks like vast amounts of research material. I reach my hand out and gently still hers. I ease the folder from her and put it to the side. She stares at me dazed by my gentle actions. "I need that. It has all my notes, all my questions." She says weakly.

"Can't you just speak to me?" I shake my head.

* * *

><p><strong>Rachel's POV<strong>

All that preparation, and it's useless. I can't believe it, I thought I covered every eventuality. I read hundreds of documents on why aliens would come to Earth, noted every theory I could think of. I even resorted to comic books and films for inspiration. And yet none of that seemed to fit. This was one of my biggest questions and only the first topic and I've already gotten stuck. This would be so much easier if she would just speak to me. Or even write it down…Can she read and write?

"Can write in English?" She nods. "Good. Maybe you should write an essay for me on your life as an alien here on planet Earth, so I can look it over and ask any further questions if I need to." I think that sounds like an excellent plan, so I'm very confused as to why she is laughing again. "I don't understand why you're laughing. This is hardly a laughing matter. We need to suss out an effective means of communication, and I think an essay will be very effective unless you can do some kind of mind-meld with me…?" More laughing. Her laughs are usually almost silent but this time a beautifully soft melody escapes. It reminds me of Quinn, I love Quinn's laugh. But the niceness of her laugh doesn't distract me from the fact that I'm frustrated at our lack of progress so far.

I plant my hands on my hips. "Well what would you suggest then?" She shrugs. "Well you're helpful." I huff sarcastically. "Let's just move on to our next topic shall we?" I grab my folder and flick to the next section. "Section two, entitled 'why are you beating up criminals?'" I clear my throat again. "Question one," I hear her snicker and I glare at her until she's silent again. "Question one: Do you only target criminals?" She nods. Good, I'm happy to hear that. "Two: Are you doing it to help civilians?" She nods, but there is a hesitation. I make a note to come back to that later. "Three: Have you considered alternate means of subduing criminals without the need of violence?" I think this is a very important point because I hardly think all that gore is necessary. She pauses thoughtfully before shaking her head. "In which case, may I present to you my ideas of humane ways to incapacitate criminals?" I have a slideshow I can set up in a moment's notice. She stares at me hard for a long moment before reaching forward and flicking over the next page in my folder. I get the hint, but now I'm very curious as to why she is unwilling. I make a note to revisit that later, but we're on a roll so I don't want to push it.

"Okay, the next section is miscellaneous questions. One: Do you have a lair?" Head shake. "Two: Can you pass as human?" A nod. _Oooh, interesting._ "Really? Can I see? I mean like, skin. Do you have normal skin?" She slides down one of her gloves to show me part of a soft, pale, delicate hand. Nothing alien about that. My mind starts to wonder if she looks that pale and soft, before I can pull myself in check, the words are out of my mouth. "Do you look like that everywhere? I mean, um…" I blush blossoms over my cheeks. She cocks her head at me. "I mean, are you completely human looking? You don't have any fangs or anything?" She shakes her head. "Can I see?" I'm being daring, I desperately want to see just a little more. "I just want to check for no fangs, I'm not sure if I believe you." I'm lying horrifically. She stands there for a moment before she very slowly, very subtly nods. I shiver with excitement. She makes no move to do anything so I inch closer, and slowly bring my hands to the bottom of the mask. The urge to rip it off completely is overwhelming, but I feel the trust she is giving me here, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardise the trust we have apparently developed.

I will my shaking hands to steady themselves as I start to lift the material of the mask. Centimetre at a time I gently peel upwards. I suddenly wish I had turned on the light so I had more than the dim, pale light of the moon to work with. Gradually a beautiful slender neck is revealed, her pale skin looks almost as if it's glowing in this light. I reach over her jaw and pull the material a little more outwards to make it comfortable for her. A delicate feminine chin, then one, then two beautiful, perfect lips. I wish I could see more clearly but half of her face is in shadow as we stand side-on to the window. But if I was to go on what I see, and the rest of her face is anything like this graceful jaw line and sensual lips then this woman would be quite simply stunning.

I rest the folded material over her nose and cheeks. I can't stop my hand when it takes a mind of its own and reverently caresses the gloriously soft skin that's exposed. My breath catches and I think hers did too as my thumb accidently grazes her lower lip. Then I remember why I'm doing this in the first place. This time, I purposefully caress her lip until they part for me to reveal very normal, but very dazzling, straight, white teeth. _God, I wish I wasn't straining my eyes to see her. I wish I could see all of her._

"No fangs." I comment breathlessly. "You're beautiful aren't you?" I'm not sure if it was meant to be a statement or a question, but she doesn't answer either way. Only closes her lips again to swallow thickly. She's nervous. It's a trait that reminds me of Quinn. I obviously have her on the mind. This is what happens when you spend so much time studying one person, suddenly random nuances that remind you of them pop up everywhere, like noticing these details for the first time.

_Why is she nervous? Does she…does she like me? I mean like me, like me? _It might explain some of her behaviour like why she showed up yesterday when I wasn't in peril, and why she's here tonight. She didn't have to humour me with all of this, but she did.

Once again my mouth is ahead of me before I can stop it. "You like me don't you? You have feelings for me." This _is_ a statement. She doesn't answer but the subsequent swallow is answer enough. _She does. Oh wow._ _An alien superhero has feelings for me. This is unreal…and…wow. _My eyes are inexplicably drawn to those slightly parted lips. I'm close enough to her to feel the increasingly rapid rise and fall of her chest. One of my hands has appeared cupping the side of her neck and I can feel her pulse thrumming under my fingertips. I don't know what I'm doing, but the distance between us is closing, my eyes still trained on the tempting, inviting lips.

_Quinn, Rachel, Quinn!_

_Quinn?_

_QUINN!_

"Quinn!" I say loudly as I pull back abruptly. "I'm in love with Quinn. I'm head over heels, madly in love with Quinn Fabray. So I'm sorry, but I can't-" My words are halted with a crash of soft lips against my own.

My world crashes.

Perfect lips are teasing my own, hungrily, lovingly. It's all-consuming, intense, and overwhelmingly passionate, and I'm kissing back with just as much passion and need. I don't know where this is coming from, but I'm in this and it feels too damn good to let go.

Her teeth tug at my bottom lip and then she soothes it over with her tongue. I moan and part my lips and then moan loader when her tongue touches mine. A wave of arousal shoots through me and I press myself impossibly closer to her. She tastes amazing, sweet, and I can't get enough of her as her lips and tongue pushes me to delicious new heights of pleasure. My knees go weak and she holds me firm against her. Her hands explore me running down my back and sides only to slide back up under my top. But they pause there, and without breaking the rhythm of the kiss, she rips off her gloves before placing those hands back under my shirt. I moan into her mouth at the warm, silky feel of firm hands on my bare skin.

She guides me backwards. I trust her implicitly to navigate my dark room and soon feel the mattress hitting the backs of my legs. She stops there and slows the passion of the kiss, languidly moving her lips against mine until she grazes my bottom lip teasingly between her teeth. I whimper, my legs turn to jelly and my core pulses. Her hands hold me firmer as she effortlessly guides me onto my back on the bed and then drapes herself over me. Never breaking the kiss, and never jolting me. Every movement is smooth and purposeful. As her weight settles on me I feel her thigh between mine pressing deliciously into my core. We both moan out and I realise my thigh is pressing against her ridiculously warm centre. I can feel her heat radiating into me and it only fuels my passion again.

The pace changes again, becoming more urgent. My nails scrape down her back, wishing I could feel her skin beneath my fingers. She groans and her hips rock into mine, stealing my breath away with the wonderful friction. My hands firm over her arse, squeezing to press her closer to me and relieve more of the ache between my thighs. She moans loudly and the pace is set. I roll my hips up to meet hers as she grinds into me. Our kisses become desperate as we seek more of each other. One of her hands slides my shirt up, grazing my skin as she does so. She pauses before her hand reaches the underside of my breast as if asking for permission. I answer by latching on to her wrist and guiding her hand up to where I want it. She slips her hand under my bra and I'm overwhelmed by the sensation of her warm hand palming my breast.

"Uuh! Oh God, that feels good." My senses are overloaded with her mind-blowing, dizzying kisses, her firm ministrations on my breast and the sensual, slow grind into my aching core. When she gently pulls my nipple between her thumb and forefinger, I cry out into her mouth. I feel that familiar and amazing tightening in my lower abdomen. Suddenly I'm consumed with the need to feel skin. My hands rake over her body in search of an entry point into the suit. I find a discreet zip on her back and trace it upwards making her shiver under my touch. I reach the top but the mask sits between me and the opening. I'm beyond frustrated with it, so I grab the edge of the mask to rip it off so I can get to whet I want, what I need.

There's a whoosh of cold air that shocks me as it slams into my heated body. I open my eyes and she's no longer on top of me. She's halfway across the room, tugging her mask back into place. Even in the darkness I can see her breathing is ragged as she runs her hands over her face and head, trying to regain composure.

I'm hit by the sudden realisation of what I've just done. Not only was I cheating on Quinn but I was also about to de-mask the vigilante. I think I've managed to successfully sever all trust there and I'm walloped in my stomach by guilt over Quinn.

_What have I done?_

The vigilante turns back to look at me, I'm at a loss for words. I have no idea what to say, so I don't say anything and I let her climb out my window and disappear into the night.

_SHIT!_


End file.
